Love's Terror Cell
by indigovioletstargazer
Summary: An evening alone for Carrie & Quinn leads to declarations with dire consequences. Set after S2 E10 (Broken Hearts).
1. Chapter 1: Greater Adversary

_Warning this story contains Season 2 spoilers and SWEARING similar to the programme._

_This is my first ever fanfiction. REVIEWS APPRECIATED!_

_Following on from the end of Homeland, S2 E10 (Broken Hearts), when Carrie Mathison has escaped from Abu Nazir, but then returns to the old mill, alone and enters a dark room._

…...

**LOVE'S TERROR CELL**

**CHAPTER 1**

"Thanks." Carrie Mathison accepted weakly, grateful, as Peter Quinn held open the door to her home. She was drained mentally, emotionally and physically by the earlier events of the day.

"You need a bath. I'll fix you some food." Quinn marched in behind her and shut the door quickly and efficiently behind him.

"Look, there's no need..." She gestured towards the door, preferring to be alone to think, to process what she had just been through. To pin it all up on her internal cork board and rearrange it until it made sense.

"Carrie!" He pursed his lips in frustration and raised his palms. Quinn wondered where to put them so not to hurt her. He laid them on her shoulders, squeezing gently. She frowned and looked away.

"Carrie..." He smiled, tutting softly. "You have disobeyed every order I've ever given you. Probably every order _anyone _has ever given you and where has it got you?" He raised a hand and teasingly wagged his finger near her nose.

She gave a half-smile and shrugged off his other hand that was lingering on her shoulder. "It got us Abu Nazir!"

...

Quinn huffed and put both hands on his hips. She was right of course. "Goddamnit Carrie. Just for tonight trust me. Let me help you. You could have been killed today..." His jaw tightened at the cloudy memory of his quick and joyless capture of Abu Nazir, on the run outside the Mill. It was a meaningless blur. No relief. No sense of achievement. Finding Carrie had been his only concern.

He more easily recollected his frantic search alone for Carrie, whilst everyone else whooped over the capture of Nazir. His desperate fear as his shouts of her name went unanswered. Finally he had found her alone, dazed in a dark room with blood on her wrists. She was slightly concussed, probably after walking into the steel beam that she was lying underneath. Carrie was clearly alive though and not seriously injured, apart from her pride. He had been overwhelmed by relief as he held her tightly, before carrying her down the stairs to take her to the hospital.

"I could get killed any day. Just doing my job." Carrie grimaced as she slipped her arms out of her jacket. Her wrists were still raw from the cable ties that Abu Nazir had used to hold her hostage.

"There'll be plenty of time for celebrating your heroic escape tomorrow, but tonight you need to rest. Have you taken your psychotic medication?" Quinn demanded.

"Anti-psychotic." Carrie withered icily, before sighing and yielding. "I'll get it. It's in my bathroom."

...

Peter Quinn tapped his fingers nervously on the fridge as he heard the water running in the bathroom.

_Should I ever tell her?_ He exhaled slowly at the thought. He knew that she had been through enough today, but tomorrow it would all be over and then he'd never have another chance. Now Abu Nazir was captured, he'd just have to complete his mission and eliminate Nicholas Brody. Then he'd disappear as mysteriously, silently and completely as he had appeared. Another mission already lined up. Another terrorist to assassinate.

Falling in love had never been part of the plan.

...

"Something smells good!" Carrie smiled weakly as she entered the kitchen. Her hair was wet and uncombed. Her silk dressing gown was clinging to her. Quinn gazed sideways enjoying the view, taking in every detail that was important to him as a man.

He reluctantly distracted himself and grinned as he unloaded the trays from the brown paper bag. "Indian food at last!" he laughed, "I found the takeaway menu in your bin. It won hands down over that out of date yoghurt in your fridge!"

Quinn had not been surprised to find an almost empty fridge. Her self neglect was epitomised in her kitchen. Her relentless energy had been single-mindedly channelled into her work. Her obsessive quest to catch Nazir. Only when reminded by others did she allow time for the inconvenience of stopping to eat, now and again

"I remember when you said you really liked Indian food and I made you have Greek instead!" Carrie smiled, remembering the first time she had shared a takeaway with Peter Quinn.

She had enjoyed his company that evening, as they had worked alone together on surveillance. _He was cute._ She had secretly thought it then and still now. Her favourite image of him flitted through her mind, as it did daily. Quinn dropping his gown, as he announced he was discharging himself from hospital, after the Gettysburg ambush. She had pretended to be offended, but had only felt embarrassed. It was the effect that seeing his body quickly had on hers that had made her blush. She had thought he was seriously hot.

"_Like you've never seen a dick before,_" he'd derided as he flashed her, amused at her seemingly prudish reaction.

Quinn smiled too with his own secret memories. He remembered how he had endured the Greek food he so despised, just to make her happy.

"Yeah," he finally said grinning, relaxed, momentarily off guard, "I really love Indian food. I got the taste for it when I did a mission in..." He stopped abruptly. He had never told anyone. He couldn't tell her. Not yet.

"Where Peter?" she raised her chin, her happy lustful memory vaporising and her annoyance at his eternal secrecy rising swiftly. "Where did you do a mission? Who the fuck are you really?"

He looked directly at her, smirking. "Well, I'm sure Saul will have reported back to you by now?"

"Saul? What the fuck are you talking about? In fact where has Saul been all day?" Carrie's anxiety rose as she realised her mentor was missing.

"Saul is in a safe place. I'm sure you'll see him tomorrow." Quinn looked away, imagining Carrie's pain when she found out the truth. He wondered about the status of Saul's surprise polygraph and interrogation that Estes had arranged for him earlier.

"So what does Saul know about you, that I don't?" Carrie edged close to him. This was important.

Quinn laughed. "I'm not a CIA Analyst."

"Well I know that!" She huffed dismissively.

"I'm Black Ops. I'm a Soldier." He stated it coolly, not looking at her.

"Okay..." Carrie bit the inside of her cheeks. She wondered what his mission had been. Or perhaps was to be?

"Listen Carrie." Quinn sighed. "None of this matters right now. Have some food first."

...

They ate in silence. Quinn savoured everything fervently. Carrie picked at a piece of chicken tikka with her fork before pushing her plate away.

She hadn't reported her knowledge of Nazir's and Brody's roles in the Vice President's death yet. Brody was being regaled on the news as the hero who had attempted to resuscitate him. From the bulletins that Carrie had seen, it was clearly a mixture of grief and joy in the newsrooms of America tonight. _The sad day that the Vice President had a fatal heart attack._ Somehow made even more tragic by being on the same day that_ The Renowned Terrorist, Abu Nazir_ was finally in custody. It seemed that the American public were confused whether they were supposed to be mourning or celebrating.

_The terrorists probably have the same dilemma_, thought Carrie. _Mourn Nazir's capture, or celebrate the death of the Vice President?_ She wondered where Brody was tonight.

"Carrie... You. Need. To. Eat." Peter Quinn spoke slowly and deliberately, like talking to a toddler.

"Stop telling me what to do!" she retorted, annoyed he was invading the turmoil in her mind. Stopping her from having the personal space she needed to sort it out and pin it all up in the right places.

"Carrie! I warned you, not tonight. You will obey my orders tonight!" Quinn stared at Carrie. His blue eyes were glinting and his cheekbones seemed more defined than ever, as he inhaled sharply and pursed his lips.

"Really? _Obey you?_ Who do you think you are anyway? Christian fifty fucking shades of Grey?" Carrie pouted and raised an eyebrow suggestive and sarcastic in equal measure. She stood with her hands on her hips as the chair clattered to the floor behind her.

"Oh believe me, Carrie, don't even _risk_ disobeying me tonight!" Quinn pretended to threaten her again. He was amused now and enjoying the possible hint of flirtation in her blue eyes.

He pushed her plate back across the table and forked a piece of chicken tikka for her, pretending he was furious.

"Oh, fuck off, Peter!" Carrie yelled angrily, mistaking his intention to tease her, for genuine intimidation. She wondered if the fork in the chicken tikka might be through her hand next. She shoved the plate back to him and stomped through to the lounge, turning up the volume on the stereo as she passed it. It was jazz. Thelonius Monk, no less, _Straight, no chaser_.

"Good choice of music, Peter." Carrie whispered to herself, surprised, curling up on the safety on her sofa.

...

After he had finished eating his curry, Quinn militarily cleared the table and washed the plates. Outwardly, he appeared as serious and efficient as usual. Inwardly his heart and mind was racing.

He couldn't handle it any more. The jazz was pushing him over the edge of an emotional cliff._ How could she listen to this? What sort of mind could enjoy this erratic excuse for music?_ He marched over to the sofa and turned off the stereo as he passed it.

"I'm really sorry Carrie." He knelt beside her, touching her lightly on the arm with his index finger. "I just wanted to make sure you're OK. You know? After we got Nazir today?"

"I'm fine Quinn!" She spat, mostly annoyed that her favourite jazz had been silenced so abruptly. "You know I'm a big girl and I can look after myself! Even feed myself! I don't need some bullshit soldier hero to make me feel OK..."

Quinn stood up angrily and started pacing the lounge. He punched the wall twice, before turning towards her. He suspected the real source of her anger was because, in the end, she had _needed his help_ to catch Nazir. Carrie clumsily walking into a steel beam and knocking herself out, had meant she hadn't participated at all. Apart from being Nazir's hostage earlier, before escaping somehow. Only Carrie would have been foolish enough to go back into the dark, abandoned Mill alone. She had wanted to do it all alone. To catch Nazir and personally avenge for the deaths of those she felt responsible for. It had been her obsession for too many years.

"Don't you get lonely, sometimes?" Quinn asked, more softly than Carrie had expected, after his pacing and punching. "I know I do..."

"I get company when I want it!" Carrie shrugged whilst unconsciously rubbing her bare ring finger. The fake gold band that she occasionally wore always did the trick of weeding out the guys after commitment.

"Brody?" Quinn bit his lip as he said the_ B_ word.

"Don't mention his name. That man. That monster is dead to me." Carrie forced her eyes and voice to be devoid of emotion.

Quinn inhaled sharply. _He will be tomorrow, quite literally_. He silently reminded himself of the final loose end he needed to tie up.

"So was it real with Brody? While it lasted?" Quinn quizzed Carrie, hating himself for being tantalised.

Carrie shook her head. "I told you before it wasn't real. Not this time. I was doing my job. Just like you all asked me too! I always was his Achilles heel..."

"But you enjoyed doing your job? At the motel?" Quinn hoped his forced smirk disguised his jealousy, that was always triggered by that memory.

Carrie mocked back. "You don't get it do you? I feel nothing for that monster, not any more! That terrorist! It was a job. I faked everything!" She saw Quinn raising an eyebrow. "Yes, Peter, _everything_, even my mind-blowing, earth shattering orgasm that you and your perverts so enjoyed listening too!"

Quinn jerked inwardly, the jealousy taking over. The memory of him and Saul listening awkwardly to Brody fuck Carrie. Saul had been horrified like a father. Quinn had felt violently jealous. Those sounds had since haunted him. Aroused him. Angered him. "I'm glad you faked it, but you sounded pretty realistic?"

"Years of practice." Carrie retorted dismissively. "Why are you glad, anyway Peter? Why would any of this matter to you in the slightest?"

"Because." He swallowed, decision made he'd tell her. Now or never.

"Because what?" She was getting more annoyed with him. She thought he was clearly judging her. Thought she'd gone too far when he'd asked her to _empower Brody_ to keep him on track.

"Because... you have no idea how much I admire you, Carrie!" Quinn looked at her tentatively.

"You. Admire. Me!" She snorted with disbelief.

"Every hunch you've ever had has proved right. I've always trusted you, Carrie! One of your hunches saved my life in Gettysburg..." Quinn's blue eyes searched her face trying to read her feelings.

Her face revealed nothing.

He blurted "And I love you, Carrie! Against all my better judgement, I love you more deeply than you could ever imagine!"

...

Carrie's face reacted when she saw this declaration confirmed in his eyes. She stared back at him with her mouth opening and closing, like a fish out of water.

She could tell he wasn't joking. Or was he? Quinn didn't do jokes. But did Quinn do love either? Clearly yes, but she'd had no idea. Maybe he did do jokes after all? That was easier to believe. Perhaps this was a joke and she was misreading the truth in his eyes. Although, she knew she rarely made mistakes. She trusted her instincts, especially after her suspicions about Brody had been verified.

Carrie laughed at him. "You _love_ me! And against your better judgement nonetheless! Why are you telling me this? What the fuck do you mean?"

Quinn looked down, embarrassed. He was afraid. There was no going back now.

"Because I might not get another chance, Carrie. And I'm fed up of lying to you!" His blue eyes again told her it was the truth.

Carrie gawped, lost for words and unsure what to say to contain the situation. Suddenly there was no space for words anyway. With his warm fingers, he quickly held her face gently. His mouth pressed down hard against hers. She felt that she had lost control of her own mouth, as it eagerly responded to his kiss.

She pulled back sharply, momentarily dizzy, as she recovered her senses that were at risk of spiralling out of her control. She was breathing rapidly and her body was _desperate_ to join in with the action, that her mouth was enjoying. "Against _your better judgement_! What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Quinn chuckled. "You're crazy, Carrie. You make me crazy too. I'm in love with the craziest woman I've ever met!"

"Well, you're not exactly Mr Stability are you?" She spat the words at Quinn. She now hated that particular word after Brody had used _crazy_ as a term of endearment for her.

_You know __how everyone thinks you're crazy. You're crazier than that... _That particular phrase had tipped Carrie over the edge last time. Made her risk her heart with Brody again.

Carrie snarled. "You know what Quinn. I thought you were pretty _crazy_ stabbing Brody in the hand that time. You lost it!"

"I was your bad cop, Carrie..." Quinn whispered, pulling her gently towards him again. "I did it for you! Don't you see what a great team we make?"

"Listen to yourself! People on my team? They don't call me _crazy_!" Carrie fumed, pushing him away.

"Everyone calls you crazy, Carrie. Even your family. And especially those who truly love you!" Quinn teased her, he pulled her in and tried to kiss her again.

For a few minutes, Carrie allowed it and basked in the whirling light-headedness of his kisses. Quinn's touch was growing insistent and she wanted him badly too. Then against every fibre in her body she fought against it. She had to resist and he had to fucking desist. Quinn wanted more than sex and she couldn't give it to him.

It was hard and awkward as she came up for air. She pushed him away. "Quinn, you're cute! And I'll give you this, a good kisser, probably a great fuck... and in other circumstances...but... but... _Love_, do you know what that word means?" She stared at him. "I don't want to know!"

Carrie continued, "I can't figure you out, Quinn. You're Mr Ice-Cold-Serious one minute. Mr Crazy-Hand-Stabbing-Assshole the next! Now you're acting like Mr goddamnfucking Darcy out of Pride and Prejudice!"

Quinn pleaded, desperate to kiss her again. "Carrie. Take a look at your own actions! Look in the mirror sometime. Maybe I'm your mirror?"

"I don't do love, Quinn. One night stands, maybe, but not_ Love_." Carrie was shaking now, lust subsiding, just agitated and confused.

Brody was the only man she had ever come close to loving. _Twice_. She knew _that_ had ended badly for her to put it mildly. _Twice_. Carrie shuddered, alternately remembering being in the cabin with him, then the memory of the ECT.

_Cabin. ECT. Cabin. ECT. Love equals loss of everything in my life. Loss of my mind. Loss of my job. I love my job._

Then thoughts of Roya Hammad.

_Roya Roya Roya_

Carrie now knew that Brody had only rekindled the relationship with her, because Roya Hammad had told him too.

She began to feel like her mind was falling apart. She had to put an end to this quickly.

Carrie silently vowed there and then. _Never again will I risk even a hint of love and the complete destruction it always brings me._

Quinn was begging her now. "Try love. Properly for once Carrie, risk it. With me. Trust me! We could just go away together. Tonight. Fuck finishing the mission. Fuck Estes. Fuck Dar Adal. We're not needed any more. We could just go and live in a small town. Have a nice life. Get married. Have kids! Eat Indian food or Greek if you prefer. Olives... I'll eat whatever shit you like!"

He paused, like the words were hard to form, "I just cannot bear to live without you for another second." Tears welled in his blue eyes, as his heart and soul spilled out.

Quinn stood there shaking. He looked empty now. The truth of a man desperately in love, exposed, with nothing to lose any more.

Carrie was horrified. Disgusted. Quinn now looked and sounded like putrid vomit to her. The thought of him, or anyone, truly loving her, only made her feel more sick. She retched inwardly.

Carrie suddenly zealously celebrated the knowledge that she would be alone her whole life, without love. _It was safer that way_, she decided. _For everyone_.

She decided that _Love_ made her sick, physically and mentally and _Love_ would destroy her, if she ever toyed with it again. _Love_ was the greatest enemy to be fought now!

Carrie rubbed her hands with delight. _Love_ would be greater adversary than even Nazir had been! _Love_ would never get the chance to hold her hostage though. She would always outsmart it. She would annihilate it, before it could ever hunt her down.

...

Carrie suddenly recalled that as a girl she had dreamt of marrying men like James Bond, like _Peter Quinn_ in fact. Even today, she thought Quinn was the most ideal man she had ever met. _Hot, handsome, unpredictable, mysterious, hard as nails._

Carrie rejoiced in her newly acquired strength. She now knew that _nothing would ever tempt her into Love's Terror Cell._ She realised that Quinn might always be appealing, but _Love_ certainly wasn't.

She was thankful that she still had her wits about her. Relieved that she wasn't as crazy as everyone thought after all.

Carrie was calm as she spoke, slowly and at peace with herself. Victorious. She may not have been the one to capture Nazir today, but a much more dangerous enemy, _Love_, had just been curtailed by her for good. She knew that it had been a close call.

Carrie laughed at him. "You call me crazy, Quinn, but you're fucking deranged. You've lost your mind and you should leave!"

When he didn't move, she screamed. "Get out. Right now! I never want to see you again!"

...

Carrie had been surprised that Peter Quinn had departed as coolly as he did. She knew someone would probably pay though, as she recalled the knife lodged in Brody's hand. She nodded to herself. _Quinn always did have a temper._

_..._

Three hours later a strangely bruised Saul woke her and turned on the News Channel for the latest reports on Brody's assassination. Carrie sighed. She finally knew the real purpose of Peter Quinn's mission.

The bulletins were reporting that Congressman Brody had been shot twice, likely by a sniper, probably a loyal terrorist avenging the capture of Abu Nazir. She shook her head. The public would never know the truth about Brody, an all American hero to the end.

_Had Quinn had completed it as a direct order from Estes, to cover up Brody's knowledge of the drone strikes, or as a crime of passion?_ Carrie decided she'd never know.

Saul was just relieved that his Interrogators had been called away and were distracted by the breaking news broadcasts of Brody's shooting half an hour earlier.

Peter Quinn had arrived, almost unrecognisable in his hat and an unexpected visitor to Saul's interrogation cell. Quinn had left the door open, so it gave Saul a chance to walk away unnoticed.

Quinn's words had been "Look after Carrie and don't trust Estes."

Saul had come straight to Carrie of course.

...

_Thanks so much for reading this chapter. More will follow! Chapter 1 was inspired by the moment when Mr Darcy tells Elizabeth Bennett how he feels... "In vain I have struggled, it will not do. My feelings will not be repressed - you must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you."_


	2. Chapter 2: Tonight?

_Warning this chapter contains SWEARING similar to the programme._

_..._

**LOVE'S TERROR CELL**

**CHAPTER 2**

Carrie sighed as she saw the calendar and realised what the date was. Exactly two years.

Two years since the Vice President had died of a heart attack.

Two years since Abu Nazir had been captured, but had swiftly died before anyone had the chance to interrogate him... another sharp object mysteriously finding it's way into a Terrorist's cell.

Two years since Brody was assassinated.

Two years since she had seen Peter Quinn.

Two years since anyone had kissed her...

...

Work kept Carrie busy now as it had then, but she lacked the passion she had two years ago. The biggest thrill was always in the chasing of Nazir. The thrill of liaisons with Brody. The thrill of secretly fancying Peter Quinn, that had evaporated the moment he had, unexpectedly, declared his _desperate_ love for her.

She remembered the promises she had made to herself that evening with Quinn. To remain alone and avoid love whatever the cost. It was an important matter of self-preservation.

Carrie had mourned Brody in the same way she had mourned Nazir. Her life was now easier, but certainly duller without them to chase.

Mostly though, she wondered whatever had happened to Peter Quinn?

She decided to go out for a drink that evening. Make a fresh start. Two years was enough.

...

The next morning Carrie kept her eyes closed when she awoke. She could feel a weight across her chest. It was warm. The warmth moved slightly.

_Oh fuck._

Her nostrils acknowledged a vaguely familiar smell, but it was much more intense than what her brain told her she was used to. She opened one eyelid just a millimetre and looked at the source of the weight and warmth.

It was an arm and it looked strangely familiar.

_Oh fuck._

Oh fuck, it was Danny Galvez.

_How the fuck did that happen?_

...

Two months later

Carrie had found it awkward at first, but she followed Galvez's lead as he swore that he didn't want anything more than a good time. He tried to give her that impression anyway, although on occasions she had caught him gazing at her, particularly at work, with his brown, puppy dog eyes.

If he had any emotional attachment to her, he never said anything and they evolved an virtually unspoken agreement of meeting once a week for sex.

Carrie had always liked Galvez. They had worked together for years now. He was younger than her and a good CIA Analyst, but still had an innocent charm. Not someone she would normally fancy in a million years. Neither anonymous, nor dangerous enough.

He was in fact still a very good friend. The sex wasn't affecting their working relationship either. Carrie struggled to reconcile that the Galvez at work, was the same Galvez in her bed. Only when she received a text message saying "_tonight?"_, or if she felt inclined to send the same text herself... then she would look at Galvez differently. The glint in his eye would always be mirroring her own.

...

Six months later

The liaisons with Danny Galvez had escalated to twice a week, then three times a week, then to whenever they could get their hands on each other, sometimes at work, or in the car. Galvez was a source of passionate comfort. At the back of her mind, Carrie suspected she probably would end up hurting him soon. Perhaps he would do something silly like mention feelings, or want to introduce her to his mother. It saddened her.

...

Eight months later

Saul smiled knowingly to himself as he joined Carrie and Galvez. They were huddled together at the hotel bar after the first day of the conference. He decided that they were good for each other. He thought Danny Galvez had calmed her down. Saul's hotel room was in between their separate rooms, on the seventh floor. He had heard them sneaking between rooms late last night and early this morning. Saul was glad that he had remembered his earplugs, when he first heard Carrie moaning during the night. He prayed his earplugs would remain usable the whole week.

The second evening of the conference was a formal organised dinner followed by speeches. Carrie was buzzing, from alcohol and residual caffeine rather than the archaic rhetoric of the stiff, grey Orators. Her nights with Danny Galvez were enthralling and physically exhausting. The second day of the conference had been particularly mind-numbing and she was convinced she would have fallen asleep. She was thankful for the never-ending supply of extraordinarily strong coffee and x-rated daydreams, of what she might do to Galvez later.

As the speeches went on forever, Danny Galvez yawned like a Disney character and announced that he was just popping outside for some fresh air, before going to the bar. He winked discreetly at Carrie as he stood up.

Carrie's pretended to be engrossed by the latest Speaker and waited. She felt her cell phone buzz with a text message. _Tonight? Meet me by the elevator in 5 mins. _She suppressed a giggle.

"Excuse me, I'm so sorry, I need to make an urgent call." Carrie smiled apologetically to the others at the table. Saul rolled his eyes. _Where did they get the energy? _He momentarily regretted having the decaf, but Mira always warned him that caffeine played hell with his bladder.

Carrie slipped into the Ladies room before going to the lobby where the lifts were. She felt carefree and happy. _I'm like a teenager_, she smiled, as she looked in the mirror, whilst reapplying her lipstick and smoothing her long, blonde hair. She sighed momentarily as she remembered her angst filled teens. _That's the past and I'm done with it._ She laughed out loud. A lot of things were in the past now. She was in a good place, mostly thanks to clozapine, lithium and Danny Galvez. Thankfully there had been no hint of meeting his mother yet.

Carrie sneaked through the vast hotel reception, towards the lobby where the elevators were She checked over her shoulder for prying colleagues, like Estes.

Danny Galvez was already there, beaming at her as he pressed the button to call the elevator. The lobby was completely deserted. They looked sideways at each other and giggled as they entwined their fingers. Carrie wobbled as her heels slipped slightly on the glossy tiled floor and Galvez grabbed her round the waist to support her. They both laughed loudly as he tipped her backwards, tango style and kissed her melodramatically, full on the lips. The bell from the elevator dinged and the doors slid open. They suppressed more giggles as they awkwardly and belatedly released their comedy embrace.

Carrie felt the blood drain from her face. She could almost hear the neuron's connecting behind Peter Quinn's blue eyes, as he forced a smile at her, from inside the elevator.

...

Galvez's cheeks reddened in contrast to Carrie's sudden pallor. He appeared embarrassed, guilty to have been caught with his hands all over Agent Mathison. He was the first to speak though, his lips smudged scarlet from Carrie's lipstick, "Peter Quinn, Sir, I don't believe it! How are you doing?"

"I'm great Galvez. I can see you two are doing well!" The muscles in Quinn's cheeks were taut, the fake smile probably hurting him now.

"What brings you _here_, Sir?" Galvez was patting him on the back, as Quinn edged out of the elevator.

Quinn rolled his eyes. "I think one of you guys should get Saul and Estes. It's pretty urgent."

"Go get them now, Galvez!" Carrie ordered hoarsely, gesturing Galvez to wipe his mouth as she handed him a tissue. He ran. He recognised a direct order from Carrie when he heard one.

She wiped her own smeared lips meticulously, staring at the floor, before she looked at Quinn again.

"I'm glad you've found some happiness, Carrie." His eyes hadn't left the place where Galvez had been stood. Like the image of their happy laughing tango was burned into his eyes.

"Oh, oh no! You just caught us fooling around." Carrie strained a small laugh and she rolled her eyes dismissively.

"Sure." Quinn, frowned slightly, knowingly, before stretching his lips into a tight grin.

Almost a minute passed before either spoke again, their gazes wandered around the hotel lobby before they accidentally and awkwardly made eye contact.

"I'm sorry!" They spoke in unison.

"You first!" Carrie exhaled and tried to smile.

"I was such an asshole." Quinn frowned as shook his head. "God knows what I was thinking. I pretty much proposed to you that night! It was a stressful day, I just wanted to take us both away from it all."

"You did fucking propose to me." Carrie hissed.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it. It won't happen again." His smile was genuine now.

"Good." Carrie frowned fleetingly, before smiling. Surprising herself by being unsure, as to whether or not she really liked this answer.

She sighed. "I'm sorry too. I probably said some shitty things to you that day."

"I deserved it all!" Quinn held his palms up. "Can we move on though. Forgive me, even if you can't forget? We're going to have some pretty fucking intense work to do together."

"Can I ask you?" Carrie's voice was tight. "Brody?"

He nodded, almost imperceptibly, his blue eyes were wide with concern for her.

Carrie nodded back and felt tears springing at his confession, even though she had known it all along.

...

Peter Quinn briefed them all in his hotel room about what brought him back to their department. Dar Adal had sent him. Some unexpected documents had turned up, whilst he was on a completely unrelated mission. Documents suggesting another terror cell on US soil, was growing and coming to life. It all linked back to the same people who had helped get Nazir across the border and into the US, almost three years ago. It suggested an influx of known terrorists over the last four weeks. Something big was imminent. Probably bigger than whatever Nazir and Brody had planned, if they had not both died.

Carrie, Galvez, Estes and Saul remained in Quinn's hotel room until 4am. It was a hive of activity with laptops tapping and cell phones buzzing. Saul suggested some sleep was in order, if they were to have any chance of functioning tomorrow.

Twenty minutes later, Carrie heard a knock on her hotel bedroom door. Her heart leapt as her first thought, unexpectedly, was _Quinn!_ She sighed and her heart curiously sank, as she realised that it was probably Galvez.

"You OK?" Galvez tentatively reached a hand through the cracked door and stroked her cheek. He seemed to be looking for reassurance.

"Yeah sure, just so tired, see you in the morning?" She smiled.

"OK Carrie..." Galvez sighed back, not moving.

"So, I'll see you in the morning, Galvez!" Carrie took a step backwards and gave a brusque wave as she closed the door.

She stood for a minute before realising _he'd already known_ that he wasn't going to get an invite in. He had come for the confirmation. To hear it from her directly.

Danny Galvez stood momentarily outside her door. He had seen the old Carrie taking control again in Quinn's room. The furrowed brow, the obsessive, determined, stubborn Carrie. The crazy, adrenaline-fuelled Carrie back on the trail of Nazir's legacy. He had seen the light-hearted, giggling Carrie, that he had gently coaxed from her own ruins, vaporise before his eyes.

He looked down the corridor and glimpsed the shadowy form of Peter Quinn, darting back into the control centre of his room.

Galvez practically ran to his own room and shut the door quickly. He remembered the rumours of who had really assassinated Brody.

_I'm so sorry Danny _thought Carrie sadly, before her thoughts returned to Quinn and their mission ahead.

...

As the days passed, the surveillance became a round the clock job. Danny Galvez was realistic and had enough self-respect not to text _tonight? _to Carrie. She was too busy anyway. He could tell she had already lost weight. Not eating properly again. He didn't say anything though. He went into _work colleague mode_, without a hint of anything else and he knew that she would appreciate that. He hoped when the mission was over, he could try and be a good friend to her. Help her smile again. Carrie Mathison had a very special place in Danny Galvez's heart.

...

After another long shift on surveillance, Peter Quinn practically dragged Carrie to a Diner insisting she ate something, anything. They were working well together, despite being abrasive to each other most of the time. Their respect for each other was growing every day. Each was convinced their own method would get them closer to the information they needed. Put a stop to whatever terrorist event was on the horizon. Mostly Carrie was right and Quinn remembered to trust all her crazy hunches.

"So, you dumped, Galvez?" Quinn said it nonchalantly, out of the blue, chewing through a mouthful of pancake.

"W-w-w-what?" Carrie spluttered into her coffee.

"You're still sleeping with him then?" Quinn's eyes were bright and teasing.

"No. Shut up Quinn." Carrie scowled, her cheeks flushing.

"You shouldn't have toyed with him, Carrie. He's a good guy with a heart." He tutted.

"How's your love life, Quinn?" She snapped, tossing her blonde hair.

"Amazing." Quinn laughed. "Back in the good books of my insatiable ER nurse, Emily."

"The same one from three years ago that..." She swallowed. "You. Weren't. That. Into?" Her fingers air quoted each word sarcastically.

"Oh, I'm much more into her since she got married." Quinn laughed and his pupils dilated mischievously.

"Her unavailability has made her more desirable?" Carrie pulled a face.

"Naturally!" He grinned impishly.

Carrie's throat was tight as she swallowed more mouthfuls of rubbery pancakes. Subsequent conversation was scarce and only about work.

...

They drove back to the office in silence. Carrie immediately visited the Ladies room and looked at her strained, gaunt reflection. She forced the sides of her mouth upwards. _Where did that giggling girl go?_ Hard to believe it was only 2 weeks ago.

Instinctively she grabbed the cell phone from her pocket and sent a text message.

_Tonight?_

It was sent before she had a chance to decide if it was actually a good idea or not.

The reply came quickly

_No!_

_Fine!_ She frowned resignedly and was about to leave the rest room when her cell phone buzzed again.

_Now!_

_Now!_ She smiled and looked in the mirror, her eyes suddenly sparkling.

_Now!_ She rushed along the corridor and down the stairs to the disused Archive Room where they had met countless times before.

Carrie was there first. Her heart was racing.

She heard the door open and Galvez strolled in. He knew exactly where to find her. He was grinning, but pouted as their eyes locked, glinting. She giggled.

Her heart soared as she felt Galvez's warm arms around her.

_I'm falling in love with him_. She thought, adrenaline of the unscheduled liaison with Galvez making her buzz. _I really don't want to, but I'm falling in love with Peter Quinn._

_..._

_The next chapter will follow very soon! Thanks so much for the reviews and comments._


	3. Chapter 3: Calculations

_Warning this chapter contains SWEARING similar to the programme_

_..._

**LOVE'S TERROR CELL**

**CHAPTER 3**

When Peter Quinn was calm his brain was pure logic. Almost every action he took could be traced back to a careful series of calculations he had made earlier.

He avoided gambling. He simply calculated risks and took them.

He understood now that Carrie was not wired like him, _everything_ was interpreted differently by her. He would put money on her being really good at Magic Eye puzzles. He never could do random dot stereograms. He only saw dots. He could count them, measure them, calculate them and join them, but unlike Carrie, he just could not train his eyes and brain to see, either beyond, or in front of those dots. Carrie's capacity for pattern detection, where others saw randomness was second to none. That was why her hunches were normally right. She saw alternatives to the obvious. She knew how to lose focus first, to gain a new clarity. To reveal the truth.

_I'm so literal and she's so lateral._ He pondered.

Quinn had noticed Carrie's attitude to him softening over the last week. They still bickered, but he was obviously making his way back into her good books. He was pleased that she seemed to have believed his story about his marriage proposal being a joke of some kind. He thanked _Time_ for clouding her memory of that distant evening. Perhaps she really believed he had been traumatised the day Nazir was captured.

_That proposal was nothing but a fucking gamble and I lost her, before I ever had a chance with her._ He berated himself and stabbed the desk with his pen.

_Why didn't I keep my mouth shut? Almost three years, I've stayed away from her. Three long fucking years because I thought I had destroyed her by killing Brody and she's been fine all along. Fine just fine, with fucking Danny Galvez. _

This time he stabbed the pen into his hand.

...

Quinn's mind flitted back to memories of Brody. He had not believed Carrie that night, when she had said that she had no feelings for Brody. In Quinn's mind, Brody was the sole reason that Carrie had rejected _him_. In a fit of rage, he had gone to find Brody and had been only too happy to be_ Quinn-the-Assassin_ and complete the secret mission for Estes. In doing so, he also believed that he had eliminated the source of all his pain and humiliation that evening.

In the hours that followed his hit on Brody, Quinn had become acutely aware of the great pain that he must have caused Carrie. She would surely have known quickly of Brody's assassination, from the news reports and from Saul, who he had freed. For almost three years Quinn had imagined Carrie grieving the loss of her true love, _Brody_.

It was only now, three years later, that Quinn saw that Carrie had not been lying. She really had seen Brody as a terrorist threat and a monster. Although a small part of her had probably mourned the brief encounters she'd had with him, the bigger part of her saw Nazir and Brody in the same light. She was pleased that their threat had been eliminated.

...

Quinn snapped out of his thoughts.

_Where the fuck was Carrie anyway?_ They had returned to the office from the Diner about thirty minutes ago. She had gone straight to the bathroom and not returned yet. Quinn wondered if the pancakes had disagreed with her?

_Unless? No. Surely her feelings weren't THAT strong for him already?_

He'd lied to Carrie at the Diner about being back with the ER nurse. He hadn't seen Emily for years.

It was all part of his calculation.

_Time taken for Carrie to seek revenge fuck with Galvez was inversely proportional to how jealous she was of ER nurse. This was, of course, directly proportional to how badly she really wanted to fuck himself, Peter Quinn._

Quinn had thought evidence of Carrie hooking back up with Galvez within a week or so, would be _very_ high score indeed.

He hadn't factored for Carrie fucking Galvez, within _minutes _of him laying the trap.

Quinn set his mind back to work on the equation.

On cue, Carrie sauntered into the office. Her trouser suit was neat enough, but the fullness of her lips, the sparkle in her eye and the general post-fuck glow she had, was pretty good evidence.

The appearance of Danny Galvez, minutes later, bearing in his hand a small diamond stud earring, that he'd _found in the corrido_r was the absolute proof Quinn needed.

Peter Quinn patted himself on the back. Calculation complete, with a better result than expected. Carrie wasn't just gagging for him, it was more likely that she was falling in love with him.

...

Quinn's smugness slowly wore off as the afternoon wore on. He should have remembered that Carrie was crazily unpredictable and would probably never conform to _any_ equation.

She didn't boomerang back to Quinn with a sense of having evened the score like he had hoped for. Instead she seemed calm, recharged and revitalised by her illicit make-out session with Galvez. She had even invited him to join the surveillance team in Quinn's office that afternoon.

As the hours passed, Carrie and Galvez's banter escalated to genuine public flirtation and Peter Quinn did not like it one bit. For starters he didn't really trust Galvez. _What the fuck is she doing?_ She didn't even seem to be flirting with Galvez to wind him up.

...

What Quinn didn't know was that earlier, in her final shuddering moments in Galvez's arms, Carrie had lost focus from the mission and the long hours with her calculating sidekick, Quinn. What had come, quite literally, into her awareness was how much _better _she felt after a few moments alone with Galvez.

She remembered Brody saying something similar to her once _"T____wo minutes with you__, and __I feel good. How ____do you pull that off_?"

But unlike Brody's subsequent reaction, Carrie hadn't bolted at the realisation. She had embraced Galvez harder than ever before.

She cried silently, joyously. _I need Galvez more than I ever knew. I need him to feel alive. He's my water._ She exalted her metaphor before deciding that water was too bland to sustain her interest. _He's my coffee and I need a lot of coffee!_

She smiled, _I must be thirsty. _She asked Galvez if he was free later tonight and had momentarily felt dejected when he said he probably wasn't, but maybe another time.

_Have I blown it?_ She wondered, remembering how it seemed Galvez used to drop everything, for an evening alone with her. Before Peter Quinn had come back on the scene and distracted her from quality Galvez time.

_Fucking Quinn and his fucking ER Nurse and his games and my fucked up feelings for him._ She thought.

Since Quinn had returned, Carrie had gone into self-destuct mode. Partially because of their adrenaline-fuelled mission, but mostly because of the emotional roller-coaster, that she felt like she was always on with him.

_Quinn is hard liquor._ She decided. _Nice to sip, euphoric initially, but too much long-term will be destructive. I've got to get him out of my head. _

_Both of them, maybe I need them BOTH out of my head. Maybe I am better off alone._

_..._

Bringing Galvez into the team had proved a good decision of Carrie's that afternoon. They saw things together, that neither one of them could ever have seen alone. They had been like that for years.

Saul had once tried to describe it to them as their very own _gestalt effect_. The whole picture that they could somehow see when together, was greater than the parts that they saw individually.

It seemed Peter Quinn had been too busy watching the movements of the individual terrorists, without stepping back to see the pattern that they were making.

When Carrie and Galvez had spotted the whole picture simultaneously, they had high-fived.

Quinn had almost punched Galvez in the face there and then, but before he knew it they were both gone.

Carrie and Galvez had rushed out to pull together a SWAT team, leaving Quinn alone in the office. He wasn't even sure if they had got it right either. He had thought that a bigger terror event than this was afoot.

_I've just got to wait this out._ He reminded himself. _I just hope I can control my fucking temper until then._


	4. Chapter 4: At the Sink

_Thanks so much for the reviews and new follower and favouriter! Wow! __I am just LOVING writing this story. My first fanfic ever... I'd write it even if I was the only one to ever read it._

_..._

_Warning this chapter contains SWEARING similar to the programme_

_..._

**LOVE'S TERROR CELL**

**CHAPTER 4**

It had been David Estes idea for his team to go for some drinks that evening. A celebration of another terrorist attack thwarted. For now anyway.

Both Saul and Quinn thought the team were being premature in their jubilation. It had put them both in a foul mood, but they had been forced along to the bar by Estes and Galvez.

The bar that Estes had chosen was full of women. He swore innocence and said that he had no idea it was a venue popular with hen parties.

Carrie felt only slightly paranoid that she stood out like a sore thumb in her black trouser suit. She was alone. Beached, high and dry on her bar stool. She felt dull compared to the glittering feminine sea of satin and sequins, who were currently paying their respects to the forthcoming nuptials of a plump bachelorette.

Carrie cringed at their guard of honour of inflatable plastic penises and distracted herself by surveying her colleagues from her perch at the bar.

...

It was the happiest that she had seen Estes since his divorce several years ago. Although his hair was short, it was being well and truly let down, as he entertained a giggling harem, further down the bar.

Saul stood out worse than Carrie, she decided. He was at a table reading a huge newspaper and was holding it unnaturally high. He had not removed his coat or hat. He looked like he intended to dash back to work at any moment.

Danny Galvez was fitting right into the venue and was already on the dance floor. He was getting both sets of cheeks pinched from all directions. Carrie bristled unexpectedly, but laughed obligingly, as he mock gestured to her for help, before being dragged further into the scrum. _He's in his element, he's such a flirt. S_he half smiled at this thought and then noticed she was half sulking too.

Quinn was sitting next to Saul, pretending to read a supplement from the newspaper. Carrie noticed that whilst Saul was engrossed, Quinn remained observant and alert, repeatedly scanning the room with dark eyes, as if looking for potential threats.

Quinn was ignoring the dancing beauties though. It was the other men he seemed worried about. He got particularly edgy when anyone stood near Carrie at the bar. She decided that she would strike up a conversation with the next man that came anywhere near her, just to wind Quinn up. She was finding his apparent jealously rather flattering._ He must really like me and not that ER nurse after all. Maybe a sip of Quinn-and-tonic wouldn't hurt? _Carrie was in the mood to celebrate and Galvez was not giving her any attention.

Despite her fluctuating emotions, Carrie found it amusing that women felt comfortable to pounce on Galvez, he was completely magnetic. Quinn on the other hand had some sort of natural repellent system. Women occasionally eyed him from across the room, but his scowling soon put them off.

She smiled with heightened fascination. _Perhaps he is secretly a Mr Darcy after all. Maybe even The One for me?_

...

Carrie's mind raced initially with amusement, then with further growing confusion as she headed for the Ladies room. _What if Galvez isn't into me any more? I thought I'd vowed to stay away from Quinn. Stay away from all men in fact. I promised to be alone my whole life... Oh why did I get involved with Galvez again? Why am I so fucking intrigued by Peter Quinn? Oh fuck, fuck, fuck... I'm in some sort of love triangle. With them. With no one. It's all in my head, isn't it? Oh Brody..._

_..._

A tall woman smiled politely when Carrie emerged calmly from the cubicle. The few minutes of jazz on her iPhone had helped her empty her mind, before the battery had died.

Carrie stood alongside the woman at the sink as she washed her hands. The woman removed her dark framed glasses and took a compact from her brimming shoulder bag. She powdered her fake tanned jaw line slowly, leaning towards to the mirror. The boho layers of clothing that tented her frame had started billowing as Carrie turned on the hand drier.

Carrie glanced at her own reflection in the mirror and wiped the final dampness on her hands down her perfectly fitted trouser suit.

"Do you know him?" The shrill question was unexpected and directed sideways from glossy peach lips.

"Pardon?" Carrie turned to the woman. She was ageless. Anywhere between 20 and 45. Her dark, curly hair wrapping her faux-bronze cheeks, was a direct contrast to Carrie's pallor and long blonde locks.

"The gorgeous guy who is watching you so intently. With the paper. At the table?" She turned to face Carrie, her dark eyes troubled.

"No not really..." Carrie's mouth twitched the briefest smile, but her eyes remained neutral. She was defensive until she knew who and what she was dealing with.

"I'm Jane." A brief, polite smile escaped from the concerned face and a slim, cold hand darted across and grasped Carrie's warm fingers.

"I'm Carrie." They shook hands quickly and awkwardly, before Carrie withdrew her hand, deciding that this woman, Jane, was very odd indeed.

"Be careful." Jane's tone hushed further as she lent nearer to Carrie. "He's not a good person."

"What do you mean?" Carrie blurted, intrigued. She had never met anyone outside of her work colleagues, that knew Peter Quinn.

"He was in a relationship... with a friend of mine from work..." Jane frowned.

"Go on," breathed Carrie, more than interested.

"He seemed nice at first. He wooed her for months, then swept her off her feet. Unbelievably romantic. Always declaring his undying love." Jane's dark eyes were shining and blinking.

"Wow!" Carrie's own eyes widened.

Jane frowned again. "But then he turned nasty. Stopped her seeing her friends. Started to control her. What she wore, where she went..."

Carrie grimaced.

"Yep. He was a nasty piece of work. Possessive. Obsessive. He was like a stalker. Always following her...he terrorised her mentally and emotionally, if not physically." Jane's voice was trembling. "He even wanted her to leave her job. He wanted to keep her at home, locked away from the outside world. I'm sure he'd have kept her in a cell if he could."

A chill ran down Carrie's spine and three words flashed into her conciousness. _Love's Terror Cell._

Jane's face twisted into a grimace before she snapped her compact shut. "She _loved_ her job!"

Carrie was trying to remind herself how to breathe,_ in, out, in, out, in, out..._

Jane smiled. "She looked just like you... blonde, sleek and beautiful. You could almost be twins!"

Carrie inhaled sharply and glanced in the mirror. To remind herself of how her exterior appeared to other people.

"That's how I noticed what was happening out there. I saw you first and thought how much you looked like... like Emily used to... Then I saw Him. Watching You!" Jane tentatively pointed a slim, manicured finger at Carrie.

"Emily..." Carrie shuddered. "What job did she do?"

"She was an ER nurse." Jane's face was wistful. "She really loved it."

Carrie gasped.

"Until she packed her bags one day and moved abroad to escape him. I think she pretty much had to get herself a new identity so he'd never recognise her again!"

"How is she now?" Carrie asked nervously. She knew perfectly well that Quinn's job was to stalk people. Track them down. Finish them off.

"Oh she's fine, just fine! She knows she had a lucky escape all those years ago." Jane was cackling now.

"She sure did." Carrie murmured. She concluded that if Quinn was no longer pursuing Emily then he must have another blonde target directly in his sights for an unhealthy relationship. _Herself!_

Carrie thanked Jane for the warning and left the Ladies room, initially feeling slightly disoriented, but then suddenly more confident.

_I was RIGHT that night about Quinn! _Carrie strode back to the bar and recalled her feelings of horror when Quinn had proposed to her three years ago._ I can't believe I almost dropped my guard again with that deranged asshole._

...

Jane Smith fluffed her black curly hair before putting her glasses back on.

"Oh Emily-Jane..." she croaked as she gazed at her reflection.

Emily-Jane slipped a tissue under the lens of her glasses to wipe the tear from her eye gently. A dark brown contact lens shifted slightly. She was used to them now. Unlike the heels, she didn't think she'd _ever_ get used to the heels after a lifetime in her favourite Nurse Mates shoes.

"I can't believe I used to look like that." She choked on a bitter, silent sob, staring where Carrie's pale reflection had just been.

Emily-Jane decided to leave by the back door. Perhaps it had been a mistake being in the same room as Peter Quinn tonight. She was thankful that she had not taken any chances with her perpetual disguise.

She knew that if Peter Quinn had recognised her, he would have caused a scene. Either that, or have run a mile. _Possessive_, he'd called her back then. _Controlling and obsessive._

_If I can't be with him, then no one can!_ She remembered seeing a strained Quinn and an injured Carrie, together at the hospital years ago, the same day the Vice President had died of a heart attack.

The same day that Nurse Emily-Jane Smith had lost her job in ER. She had skipped too many shifts in order to follow Peter Quinn more closely, after he had recently ended their relationship. The unproven allegations of her harming patients had not helped the job situation either.

Emily-Jane was now pretty certain that _Carrie_ was the reason he had left her three years ago. She had seen the loving way he was looking at Carrie tonight. The same way that he had been looking at her in the hospital, all those years ago.

Emily-Jane prayed that she had said enough to scare off _that blonde bitch Carrie,_ with hair like she used to have.


	5. Chapter 5: John Travolta

_Warning this chapter contains SWEARING similar to the programme_

_..._

**LOVE'S TERROR CELL**

**CHAPTER 5**

Carrie made a bee-line straight for the bar after her chance meeting with Jane at the sink. She could hardly believe what a stroke of luck that had been. The direct warning about Quinn's ugly history of possessiveness was timely, considering how her own screwed up feelings for Quinn and Galvez had been ebbing and flowing, almost uncontrollably for the whole day.

She was relieved to see that Saul seemed to have relaxed after his second whisky and had finally taken off his waxed jacket and left it on his seat. He still had his checked hat on though and it was bobbing, as he chatted animatedly to the bartender.

Carrie joined them and listened politely to Saul's endless chatter of Mira's latest expeditions. Her eyes widened, not at his tales, but at her newly acquired knowledge of Peter Quinn, _the obsessive stalker boyfriend. _Periodically she could hear Quinn from across the room. He was muttering to himself and aggressively flapping Saul's newspaper to straighten it out, but she did not dare look over at him.

Suddenly, a lurching Galvez almost knocked both Carrie and Saul flying, as he stumbled off the dance floor and propelled himself towards the bar. Carrie had been about to order herself and Saul some wine.

"Save me, please!" Galvez pleaded desperately to them both, falling to his knees and clasping his hands together in mock prayer.

Carrie and Saul both chuckled, highly amused by Galvez's dishevelled appearance. The sleeves were flapping on his black shirt that was untucked and open to the navel. He was sweating and his dark hair was tousled, on both his head and his chest.

"Need a drink?" Carrie laughed loudly, ruffling Galvez's hair, as she stretched her hand down to help him up.

At the sound of Carrie's laughter, Peter Quinn looked up like a sniper meerkat. He scowled at Carrie who was now helping Galvez to roll his sleeves up over muscular forearms. Quinn huffed loudly before returning to the newspaper.

"_Honey_, come back and dance with us, _Honey_!" Predatory female hands materialised and tugged at the back of Galvez's black shirt.

"In a minute, Ladies. _In a minute!_" he gasped, wiping the perspiration from his forehead.

A loud, despairing chorus of "Oh, _please,_ Honey" and "Oh, Sweetie,_ please_" and various other saccharine appeals, now accompanied the shirt-pulling attack on Galvez.

Quinn had given up on Saul's enormous newspaper and was blatantly glaring from his lonely outpost over at the table. _"Like flies round shit"_ he mouthed to Carrie when she accidentally glanced in his direction. She turned away from him immediately and hoped Galvez hadn't lip-read Quinn's derogatory insult.

She decided that if Galvez was everyone's _Honey_ tonight, then Quinn was more like a_ Bee_. Ready to inflict a jealous sting at any moment. No, not a _Bee_, she decided, more like a particularly nasty, predatory _Wasp_. She wished somebody would swat him.

"Give him a moment, ladies. John Travolta needs to rehydrate," Carrie grinned as she rubbed Galvez's broad shoulders affectionately.

"Who's this, Sweetie?" demanded one of Galvez's more elderly groupies, assertively bustling forward. She was probably the Grandmother of the Bride-to-be. "Is she your bodyguard or your girlfriend?"

Galvez laughed and draped his arm around Carrie's slim shoulders. "Bodyguard! And you better watch out, she's mean!"

Carrie giggled and pretended to shield Galvez from his fans.

"Oh she doesn't look mean. She looks overworked! Look, she's still in her work clothes. Oh Sweetie, you've got to treat her better. At least buy her a pretty dress for a night out!" The elderly woman beat Galvez friskily with her pink hand bag, as she pretended to scold him.

Carrie and Galvez laughed loudly in unison together.

Quinn banged his empty glass down on the table and stood up like an angry Cobra, practically hissing as his blue eyes flickered from across the room.

"But what good is a pretty dress to a bodyguard?" asked Galvez, shrugging dismissively.

The elderly woman pinched Carrie's cheeks "Oh, I bet she's beautiful dressed up. You're as cute as he his, Sweetie. You two are perfect together, perfect!"

Carrie rolled her eyes. Her face was reddening, only partially from the grip that had been applied to her cheeks.

The woman ran a disapproving palm over the sleeve of Carrie's suit. The disparity in their appearances was still making her unsure. Carrie was classy, but verging on stuffy in her black trouser suit. Galvez was oozing Latino stripper style with his shirt open and his chest hair driving the hen party wild.

The woman put her hands on her wide hips and turned to the crowd, before hollering loudly, as the music stopped on cue, "He's lying, isn't he? You are his _GIRLFRIEND_, aren't you Sweetie?"

At this moment, Carrie became acutely aware that Peter Quinn had slithered in alongside Saul at the bar. Saul was looking at Carrie and Galvez hopefully, whereas Quinn had a face like thunder and his fists were clenched.

Carrie looked Galvez directly in the eyes before she answered.

"Yes I am..." she smiled affectionately as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him lovingly on the lips for a very long time, before gazing at him again.

"At least I hope I'm his girlfriend...?" she whispered to a dazed Galvez.

The old woman whooped in delight and tried Saul's cap on for size as she jigged around. The crowd dispersed back onto the dance floor as _Dancing Queen_ by _Abba_ started.

A smiling Saul patted Carrie on the shoulder. She even thought there might be a happy tear in his eye. Even Estes gave her a thumbs up from across the room before returning his attentions to a glitzy slim blonde.

Peter Quinn had vanished. _Good riddance psycho stalker_ thought Carrie.

...

"Thanks Carrie. That did the trick... but the kiss was a bit over the top!" Galvez laughed as he nudged Carrie playfully in the ribs.

"Yeah, maybe..." she smiled as she wound her arms round his waist and snuggled into his warm chest.

"You don't have to...you know, it's OK. You know, I understand. I've been happy all along... The. Way. Things. Are." Galvez whispered softly as he stroked her hair.

"Would you be happy with more than that, Galvez?" she looked up nervously. "You know. Spend more time together, maybe, do some stuff together? If time permits of course, work and all that."

"What are you saying Carrie?" His heart was thumping against her cheek.

"You're going to think I'm crazy, Galvez. And I am, of course. But why don't we... I don't know... why don't we go out together on a proper date or something?" Carrie smiled sweetly to disguise her sudden attack of teenage dating angst.

Danny Galvez grinned back. Carrie Mathison was asking _him_ on a date. She was prepared to be seen in public with someone_, with him_, like a normal couple. He never thought he'd see the day.

He hugged Carrie tightly. It would be great to spend more time with her.

...

"Spend more time with her" is exactly what Roya Hammad had said, in her clipped british accent, when trying to convince him. "Delve deeper, get more information out of her and intercept those damn hunches she always has."

Danny Galvez had said he would do it. Perhaps he wasn't nearly as hopeless at playing the double agent as Roya often bitterly griped from her cell.

Roya had accused him of falling in love with Carrie.

Galvez hadn't denied it either, but he had sworn that it wouldn't affect his ability to put on a vest and detonate it, if so required by the Terror Cell.

_I'll do a better job than Brody._ He'd promised Roya.

...

Galvez lead Carrie to the dance floor and put his arms round her waist and tipped her backwards, tango style, before kissing her melodramatically and very publicly on the lips.

"Tonight?" whispered Galvez.

Carrie nodded happily, completely ignorant to the possibility that she was in the arms of yet another terrorist.


	6. Chapter 6: The Diner

_Warning this chapter contains SWEARING similar to the programme_

_..._

**LOVE'S TERROR CELL**

**CHAPTER 6**

Peter Quinn did not show for work the next morning and was not answering his cell phone.

Danny Galvez seemed the most anxious about this as he flitted around the corridors. Said he needed to speak with Quinn urgently. He wouldn't tell Carrie what it was about.

This momentarily made her curiosity verge on suspicion. It was very unlike Galvez not to divulge his secrets to her.

He had confided in her happily enough the previous night after they'd taken a taxi back to his sleek apartment. He was especially fond of whispering in her ear from behind. Not quite _I love you_, but the filthy words murmured in Arabic, Spanish and several other languages had certainly got his point across, especially in conjunction with every hard thrust.

Carrie winced as she sat down at her desk. Her and Galvez had overdone it last night.

…

By mid-morning, Carrie and Galvez could hardly keep their eyes open, let alone do any work. Neither of them had got much sleep. They had spent a lot of time talking and laughing through the night, as well as enjoying their usual physical activities. It felt to Carrie like some private barriers between them had been removed after their first public kiss at the bar.

Galvez surprised Carrie at her desk by sneaking up behind her and giving her small kiss on the top of her head. He whispered conspiratorially "Shall we go grab a coffee and some food? My treat at that crappy Diner!"

Galvez finally seemed more relaxed, resigned to fact that he wasn't going to track Peter Quinn down any time soon that morning.

"Sure!" Carrie smiled as she stood up and automatically gave Galvez a hug. She let go when she realised her colleagues must be feeling quite nauseous from their ongoing displays of affection. Once started at the bar, their kissing, only interspersed with dancing, had continued the entire evening, much to the delight of Saul and the amusement of Estes.

Carrie knew which Diner that Galvez meant. It was the same place she'd gone with Quinn, for rubbery pancakes and where she was now sure that he'd lied to her, about being back with _his insatiable ER nurse._ Carrie recalled that according to Jane, the truth was that Emily, the ER nurse, was actually on the run. She'd had to go overseas to escape from Quinn's possessive clutches.

Carrie and Galvez left the building, hand in hand and headed for Galvez's car.

_Why did Quinn tell me he was back with Emily?_ Carrie wondered as she climbed into the car.

_Did he intend to make me jealous?_ _Or was he just indulging in wishful stalker-like fantasies about Emily?_

Whatever his intention, Carrie knew that she _had_ been jealous initially, but Quinn's lies had certainly back-fired on him now. She shivered, knowing it could have gone either way. A slim chance she might have mentally chosen Quinn over Galvez yesterday. _Thank goodness I met Jane and she told me the truth about Quinn._

Carrie smiled as she realised that whatever the original intention of Quinn's lie, the end result was the same. It simply meant that she was now here with Galvez. Not just with him like before, only for the incredible sex. Her and Galvez were behaving like a normal couple.

_No we'll never be normal_ she gasped as he started kissing her neck, suddenly energised by being behind privacy glass with her. _We have way too much sex to be normal._

_..._

Finally on their journey to the Diner after their impromptu session in the car park, Galvez was singing loudly along to the radio, one hand on the steering wheel and the other tickling Carrie's thigh. Carrie smiled to herself. He was such a fun-loving guy. She could never feel sad around Galvez.

He parked the car down the street and they strolled slowly towards the Diner, hand in hand. Carrie would have felt quite romantic had it not been for her low blood sugar and hangover headache re-emerging.

They entered the Diner and grabbed a booth. They were both starving.

….

"_Carrieee... Carrieee!"_ the words were being slurred from the dark shadow looming over their table, less than four minutes after having sat down.

Carrie squinted up from her sticky laminated menu, the morning sun through the streaky window was blinding.

The bedraggled figure lowered itself clumsily alongside Carrie and sat on the bench in their booth.

Carrie stared before her brain engaged, the dark-haired woman was familiar, but clearly worse for wear.

"J-J-Jane? What on earth...? Shit, are you okay?" concern filled Carrie at the sight of Jane. She was wearing the same baggy clothes as she'd been wearing last night at the bar, when their paths had crossed at the sinks. The head-to-toe mud splatters gave Carrie the impression that Jane may have slept in a gutter. The stale aromatic combination of smoke, alcohol and vomit was overwhelming.

"Can I join you? I need to talk to you _Carrieee..._" Jane was twitching and whimpering now.

"Um..." Carrie was in shock at the state of Jane. She was also hungry and had not been in the mood for any company other than Galvez.

"Can I get some fucking service over here?" Jane started shouting angrily. "Coffee, okay?"

Carrie looked at Galvez for help. He was busy gesturing to the waitress for assistance.

"I know you!" Jane suddenly jabbed a finger towards Galvez.

Galvez glanced at the scruffy, ragged haired woman. There was no recognition on his behalf, only contempt in his eyes for her stale drunken state that had rudely interrupted them, before they'd even had a chance to order their food.

Carrie decided to try and engage the now sweating and shaking Jane in conversation, hoping it would calm her down.

"Jane... This is Danny. He was at the bar with me last night. You probably saw him dancing...?" Carrie spoke slowly and gently.

"Shut up you don't know anything. Hey, you! Daniel Estuardo Galvez! Don't you remember me?" Jane's slurring was getting worse as she shouted loudly.

Galvez looked startled to hear his full name from this crazy woman.

"Danny Galvez! You must remember me. I looked after you for weeks!" Jane was leaning over the table towards him now. Her body following her jabbing finger.

Galvez was staring at her, his brown eyes searching, but seeing nothing that he recognised in this filthy, orange-tanned woman.

"At the hospital! I was your nurse, I'm Emily-Jane...Emily-Jane Smith!" She screeched.

Carrie jerked as if something had clicked inside. "You! _You're... _You're._.._ Emily... the ER nurse? Quinn's ER nurse!"

"Shut up Carrie! Where were you anyway? I never saw you visiting Danny once. He was shot you know!" Emily-Jane spat.

The finger started poking Carrie, before Emily-Jane continued loudly, her eyes wild.

"Fucking shot! Worse than Peter Quinn, but you found time to visit Peter, didn't you? Convinced him to discharge himself...couldn't wait to get him out of hospital and back into your bed!" Emily-Jane's cold hands darted for Carrie's throat.

"What the f..." Carrie coughed uncontrollably, astounded, as she sat back, pushing the crazed woman away so hard that she ended up on the floor.

Galvez jumped to his feet. He glanced at Carrie uncertainly, before he spun round to the waitress at the counter who was nodding that she'd already called the police.

"At least you had Roya though, Danny..." Emily-Jane crooned as she struggled to get up off the floor. She had stumbled away from Carrie's side of the table and was reaching a filthy hand up towards Galvez's groin. "Roya was there a lot."

Carrie's eyes widened as Galvez was pushing the clawing hand away in disgust.

"You're drunk and you're abusing us and you're going to be arrested very soon." Galvez's voice was low as he stared down at Emily-Jane with furious eyes.

"Oh, but Danny, after everything I did for you! Don't you remember? I took care of you!" Emily-Jane was still trying to touch him inappropriately. He slapped her hand away.

"If you are... who you say you are, then you ought to be locked up by now! I reported you for mistreating me, as did several other patients, you stupid fucking bitch!" Galvez was fuming.

Carrie was shocked. She's never heard Galvez being disrespectful to anyone before.

Emily-Jane started crying. "I lost my job, Danny. I lost my job..."

The Diner door suddenly banged open loudly. Two Police Officers had arrived and the waitress was quickly directing them to Carrie and Galvez's booth.

At the sight of the Police Officers, Emily-Jane started lashing out crazily. Carrie's cheek initially bore the brunt of sharp nails, before she managed to cover her face with folded arms and cower down into the corner.

Emily-Jane was swiftly cuffed by the Police Officers and dragged towards the door of the Diner as she shrieked.

"You bitch Carrie! You stole Peter from me! He was mine, Carrie and now you're cheating on him with Danny!" Emily-Jane was trying to bite her handcuffs.

The other diners were staring wide-eyed at Emily-Jane as she continued, wedging herself in the door before her final loud scream.

"Carrie's a two-timing bitch, Danny! I saw her in here with Peter! Stick with Roya, Danny!"

The door slammed again and the entire Diner breathed a sigh of relief. Galvez rushed round the table and hugged Carrie tightly as he carefully checked her face.

"Oh baby, oh baby..." his voice cracked as he rocked her gently in his arms and stroked her hair.

One of the Police Officers swiftly returned and began asking about statements and pressing charges. Galvez flashed his Agent ID card dismissively, before tearfully dabbing Carrie's badly scratched cheek with a napkin. The Officer nodded and turned away from the upset couple and started to ask the excited waitress and other customers, about what they had witnessed.

It took some time for the Police to depart, but finally Carrie and Galvez got some food and coffee which they consumed quickly and in silence. Silent apart from their own occasional sniffs and the hushed, gossiping whispers of their fellow diners.

They got out as soon as they could and walked back to the car. No physical contact this time, no fingers were enlaced with each others. They both kept their hands in their pockets. As if the weather sought to match their moods it started raining.

**...**

Galvez drove them back towards work with the radio turned up loudly. Carrie stared out of her window, before summoning the courage to glance at him. His face was grim.

Carrie turned the radio off abruptly and was silent for a moment, before she nervously asked her burning question. "You know I need to ask about Roya Hammad..."

Galvez sighed. He carefully looked in the rear view mirror before indicating and pulling the car over to the roadside. He stopped windscreen wipers. Then turned the key to stop the engine. Carrie observed him intently as he performed each action, slowly and deliberately.

He put his hand to his forehead and slowly rubbed his dark eyebrows. Carrie momentarily felt hypnotised watching the gentle rhythm of his thumb and two fingers. She couldn't stop her mind flitting to the countless times when those same fingers had taken her over the edge. Made her cry out in ecstasy, often right here in the car.

"What about Roya?" Galvez spoke and interrupted her thoughts. His voice was uptight, but his face was downcast and sorrowful.

"What that woman said... Jane... Emily-Jane?" Carrie cleared her throat as she refocused her attention.

"That nurse is a nut-crazed drunk, Carrie." Galvez rubbed his hand under his collar.

Carrie's temper rose swiftly. "So... she picked the name, Roya, out of thin air did she?" Her fingers randomly plucked the air.

"No, but what about Peter, Carrie, do you want to talk about Peter Quinn?" Galvez turned to her sharply.

"Peter Quinn is not a terrorist!" Carrie crossed her arms over her chest defensively.

"Neither am I!" Galvez yelled as he thumped the steering wheel, accidentally sounding the horn.

"But Roya Hammad _is_ a terrorist..." Carrie's mouth and throat were tight. Her scratched cheek was now red and throbbing. "And it seems she paid some secret visits to you, before she was locked up..."

"I'm well aware of that." Galvez spoke slowly and carefully. "There was some stuff going on. That you didn't know about, Carrie. And I'm truly sorry about that."

Carrie felt panic rising. _Oh no, please no. Not Galvez._ Memories of Brody flitted through her mind. To some extent she'd known what she was getting into with Brody, terrorist or not. Her hunches were always right with Brody.

She'd had no reason to be suspicious of Danny Galvez though.

"So, do you want to tell me?" Carrie gulped.

"Of course I do, baby, but it's complicated, even more so now..." Galvez had his head in his hands.

"Well, start at the beginning!" Carrie begged as tears welled in her eyes.

"Carrie... let's get back to work and we can talk there. See if Peter Quinn is in yet." He put his hands back on the steering wheel.

"What's Peter Quinn got to do with this? I just want to know why Roya Hammad was at your fucking hospital bedside after you'd got shot by her people in Gettysburg!" Carrie was screaming at him now.

"Why don't you ask Peter, Carrie." Galvez spoke calmly as he restarted the engine. "I was in a coma most of the fucking time."

Carrie put her hands over her eyes, then pulled them away sharply. She didn't like being alone in the dark.

…

Galvez started driving, much faster than Carrie was used to. Too fast for the road conditions. He looked desperately unhappy as he focused on the road ahead. The wipers were swishing the rain off the windscreen.

Carrie felt just as unhappy and she tentatively stretched a hand over to touch his knee, in the hope of giving and receiving some comfort. Galvez flinched.

She moved her hand back to her own lap and started scratching her fingers that suddenly felt incredibly itchy. She felt afraid, like she was on the verge of a terrible loss.

"So, what's the story with you and Quinn?" Galvez blurted the question, as he braked and swerved suddenly.

"The story? There is no story" Carrie swallowed nervously at his erratic driving as much as his question.

"But that nurse said..." Galvez began.

"Like you said yourself. That nurse is a fucking nut-case! And that's saying something, coming from me!" Carrie's laughter felt hollow. She was relieved when Galvez pulled over to the side of the road again.

"Why didn't you come and see me at the hospital, Carrie?" Galvez now looked like he might cry.

"That was years ago. They said you were dying." Carrie's voice was emotionless now, matter of fact.

"I-I-I-I would have come for you Carrie. I would have been there everyday. Especially if y-y-y-you were dying..." Galvez had tears in his brown eyes as he struggled with the words.

"Galvez, we weren't together then. I was too busy keeping my eyes on Brody!" Carrie was feeling detached from their conversation now. Like she was floating above it, like an observer.

"Not too busy to visit Quinn though?" Galvez wiped his eyes on his sleeve as discreetly as possible.

"I didn't visit him! I went to the hospital to update him. Quinn checked himself out whilst I was there!" Carrie tried to speak softly, but the edge of frustration in her voice cut through. She suddenly had a flashback of seeing Quinn's naked butt as he had dropped his gown. She gasped realising she hadn't replayed that particular fantasy in her mind's eye for a long time.

"Not drag him back into your bed, like that nurse said?" Galvez almost spat the words.

"What the fuck? I've never had _anything_ going on with Peter Quinn!" Carrie felt her heart thumping. This was a first. Her and Galvez were almost having a row.

"Carrie, did you see Quinn's face last night, when you kissed me? He stormed out!" Galvez looked bewildered now.

"Well that's his problem." Carrie folded her arms.

"Don't upset him, Carrie! You know the rumours about what he did to your last Muslim boyfriend?" Galvez suddenly started laughing absurdly.

"What? Oh, I'm guessing you mean Brody? Do you think that's funny?" Carrie threw her arms up, suddenly horrified at the thought of Peter Quinn doing anything to harm Galvez.

"Peter Quinn is a dangerous man. He can make people do stuff they don't want to do." Galvez was serious now.

"What are you talking about?" Carrie was afraid now.

Galvez continued matter-of-factly "He's very influential..."

"Please tell me what you are talking about!" Carrie suddenly felt close to tears.

Galvez exhaled. "Peter Quinn made me try and have a relationship with Roya Hammad... before the Gettysburg ambush."

"What?" Carrie's mind raced with confusion as she tried to remember back to that time.

"He wanted to get information. Like you did with Brody." Galvez spoke calmly.

"What?" Carrie suddenly felt furious. Why had her colleagues kept secrets from her?

Galvez hung his head. "Roya Hammad might be locked up, but she still thinks I'm on her side... and the Intel we have is that some other Al-Qaeda operatives out there believe that too."

Carrie looked at Galvez. She had never felt so afraid of an answer. "_Are _you on her side?"

"No of course not." He shook his head. "I'm putting out some duff information, that's all. To all the places they might pick it up. Do you believe me?" His eyes now searched Carrie's desperately, as if he was seeking her soul.

Carrie was silent. She could feel her heart beating as if in slow motion. Each breath took a lifetime.

Finally she concluded her thoughts and spoke. "I really want to believe you. I've trusted you more than anyone."

Galvez exhaled slowly, his whole body visibly relaxed. "It matters to me a lot. That you trust me."

"Do you trust me, Danny?" Carrie asked weakly as she rubbed her temples.

"I trust you, but I don't trust Peter Quinn. Well I do trust himas an Agent, but I don't trust him _anywhere_ near you." Galvez laughed nervously.

"The way he was behaving last night? I thought he might be in love with you!" Galvez suddenly stopped laughing and smiled at Carrie adoringly. Almost as if he expected every man in the world to be in love with her anyway.

Carrie's heart hammered in her chest.

"Perhaps you're right." Carrie's voice was small. "Maybe he loves me, but I don't love him."

"I think I'm falling in love with..." She whispered before tentatively reaching over to touch Galvez's face. He held her wrist lightly and kissed her fingers gently, before squeezing her whole hand tightly in his.


	7. Chapter 7: Hair Glitter

_Oh my goodness, so many reviews! Thanks SO MUCH for taking the time to read so far and sticking patiently with the story. I appreciate all your feedback. Also a big welcome and thanks to new reviewers, followers and favouriters!_

_..._

_Warning this chapter contains SWEARING similar to the programme_

**...**

**LOVE'S TERROR CELL**

**CHAPTER 7**

By the time Carrie and Galvez had got back into work, Peter Quinn was reclining in his office chair, with his feet up on the desk.

He was tapping an empty coffee cup against his smooth forehead with one hand, whilst the finger-tips of his other hand were massaging the back of his scalp, through perfectly cropped brown hair.

Quinn glanced briefly at the form of Galvez entering the office, before turning back to his computer. He didn't seem to have noticed Carrie who had stopped nervously in the doorway, frozen in her tracks a few paces behind.

"What time do you call this, Galvez?" Quinn demanded. Carrie could see his face reflected on the monitor screen. Quinn sounded angry, but thankfully he was smirking.

"We were here early this morning," retorted Galvez, rising to the bait. "We've just been out for some food."

"Anyway, Agent Quinn. Where were _you_ this morning? At the hair salon?" Galvez laughed.

He slammed some folders down on Quinn's desk, before punching him teasingly on the arm. "I need to talk to you. It's time to stop this farce with Roya and the other idiots, thinking I'm one of theirs."

Quinn shrugged as if he couldn't care less and turned round to look at Galvez properly. Carrie could now see that Quinn had several small bruises on his neck and glitter in his perfectly coiffed hair.

"Whoa! It looks like someone got lucky last night!" Galvez laughed and winked knowingly at Quinn.

Quinn frowned as he put his cup down on the desk.

"Not as lucky as you." His laughter sounded forced as he elbowed Galvez in the ribs.

...

Carrie observed the bizarre pretence of male-bonding that was unfolding before her. She was relieved that at least Quinn seemed to be in a better mood than he'd been last night, at the bar.

Carrie suddenly felt sad that she'd believed the nonsense that Emily-Jane had spouted. Clearly from the events at the Diner today, _Emily-Jane_ was the obsessive stalker and not Quinn.

She almost felt sorry for him. She briefly wondered again if Emily-Jane's tale had seriously influenced her decision to be loved-up with Galvez. _Definitely not_, she concluded. All that jealous, flirty, attraction crap with Quinn was just... she wasn't sure what it was. Lust? Temptation? The forbidden apple? It didn't matter now. She knew Galvez was the right choice. She always felt good around him. It was the opposite with Quinn, she never felt settled in his presence. She'd chosen Galvez and that was that.

Out of the blue, she suddenly wondered what Nurse Emily-Jane Smith had actually done to Daniel Estuardo Galvez in the hospital, for him to have reported her for abuse. She shuddered. Some people were just sick.

…

"I'm going to get some coffee. Want one Danny? Peter?" Feeling braver, Carrie edged further into the office.

Quinn turned round at the sound of her voice. He jumped to his feet at the sight of her red, scratched cheek.

"Carrie! What the fuck has happened to you?" He glared at Galvez, his blue eyes suddenly threatening.

"Don't look at Galvez like that, it wasn't him!" Carrie clutched Galvez's sleeve protectively.

"What the fuck has happened to you Carrie?" Quinn repeated his question slowly, as he lifted his palm halfway towards her cheek. He stopped himself and his arm dropped like a dead weight to his side.

"Perhaps you better ask your ex-girlfriend, Peter." Galvez's brown eyes were grim.

Quinn looked confused. "What?"

Galvez continued. "You remember Emily-Jane Smith don't you? The ER Nurse?"

Quinn's eyes widened in disbelief.

"Although I use the term _Nurse_ loosely, believe me. She just assaulted Carrie at the Diner!" Galvez put his arm round Carrie. Like he felt guilty that he'd hadn't stopped it from happening.

Quinn's mouth was opening and closing. He was in shock.

"Where is Emily?" he finally asked, his voice shaking. "Where's Emily-Jane now?"

Galvez shrugged. "We let the Cops take her. She'll be down the Station in town."

Quinn angrily thumped his fist on the desk, before grabbing his car keys.

"She shouldn't be in fucking jail. She'll need the hospital, or the Doctor for her meds. She always was a very sick woman." Quinn shouted as he rushed out of the door, leaving a trail of silver glitter behind.

…

Carrie and Galvez looked helplessly at each other.

"Should we go with him?" asked Carrie.

Galvez shook his head. "Too late, he's gone!"

…

Quinn didn't return to the office that afternoon, so Carrie and Galvez busied themselves writing reports from their successful SWAT operation that had lead to the capture of a handful of Al-Qaeda suspects.

Saul decided that the interrogations of the suspects would have to wait until tomorrow. So Quinn wouldn't miss his favourite part.

….

Carrie and Galvez went back to his apartment after work. Galvez cooked Greek food for Carrie and they snuggled up all evening on the sofa, before sharing a candlelit bath together.

_This is the life _thought Carrie happily, as Galvez pounced on her again.

They didn't stay in the bath for as long as she would have liked though. His cell phone and landline kept ringing.

Galvez finally answered his mobile and started nodding. "We'll be right there."

….

Saul and Quinn were flapping round Saul's office. An Al-Qaeda suspect had dropped dead in his cell before they'd had a chance to interrogate him. They'd have to wait for the autopsy report now.

Saul was furious with himself and the others. He said enough time had been wasted with premature celebrations in the bar last night and today had been wasted with hangovers. There'd still been lots of work to do. It was important that the remaining suspects were interrogated immediately after their medical checks were completed.

…

After Peter Quinn had been let loose on the remaining suspects, the interrogations were swiftly concluded and an important piece of intelligence had been extracted.

A new name kept reoccurring. Somebody rising up the ranks of Al-Qaeda, aspiring to be the new Abu Nazir.

Hassan Hosman. Apparently he was hoping to make a big splash soon, to scare off the other pretenders to Nazir's throne.

The databases were trawled. Nothing. No history. No previous activity.

No one knew who or where he was. Estes said no one was to leave until something was found.

...

The early hours of the morning brought a stroke of luck in an unlikely place.

The US Yoga Alliance register had an entry for a Hasad Osman.

Then the information kept on coming on Hasad Osman, rather than Hassan Hosman.

Carrie read the statement from a young Personal Trainer at a local Sports centre, where fifty four year old Hasad Osman, was teaching Yoga twice a week. The young guy had telephoned a National Terror Hotline to report suspicious activities. He had observed Osman on several occasions, handing out parcels to bearded young men in the changing rooms and the car park.

A report had been filed, but no action had been taken. It had got nowhere near the consciousness of Langley until now.

Further enquiries with the United States Postal Services revealed that Hasad Osman was receiving a lot of parcels at the Sports Centre. Parcels from Pakistan, Syria and Iran. Carrie agreed that this was peculiar activity given his apparent Turkish-American heritage.

As the day progressed, the picture of Hasad Osman was slowly pieced together. Local sources and assets gathered what random information they could and CCTV footage was reviewed. According to Virgil and Max, he certainly had an eye for the ladies.

Carrie stared thoughtfully at the grainy photograph of Hasad Osman. _Womaniser, really? Who on earth would date that slob?_

Carrie questioned her colleagues repeatedly: _Wasn't a part-time Yoga teacher, part-time Kebab shop owner, an unlikely candidate for a high-ranking member of Al-Qaeda?_

Quinn bluntly reminded Carrie that a ginger American Sergeant and Congressman had once seemed an unlikely Jihadist to them too.

...

Carrie groaned as her colleagues decided that it was about time she learned some Yoga. She was to attend Hasad Osman's class next week and get to know him a lot better.

She felt that they were using her, because she was a woman. Until she recalled they all went down this humiliating road on occasions.

Now it was being openly discussed by Quinn and Galvez, she was learning that even Galvez had needed to strut his stuff in the past, with Roya. Carrie shivered. _Roya was smarter than that. She had probably chewed Galvez up for breakfast and spat him out._

Carrie doubted Galvez was Roya's type. She guessed he was too low down the CIA pecking order. _Powe_r, she thought, automatically looking over at Estes, wondering what she didn't know. Maybe her other colleagues didn't even know. Roya would have made a bee-line for _Power_.

She decided it was probably a blessing that Galvez had been shot in Gettysburg, three years ago. His resulting coma was a lucky escape from the influence of Roya, whilst she was still free.

At least now, Galvez had control. He could tell Roya whatever she needed to hear in her cell. Try anything to get her to co-operate with their years of never-ending interrogations. Roya Hammad was proving a tough nut to crack.

Quinn had teased Carrie and Galvez. At least Galvez wouldn't have to pretend to be in a relationship with Carrie any more, now they were officially an item. Galvez could just feed Roya the truth about that from now. Although Quinn had warned Galvez that he would still need to be creative about pretending to be intercepting Carrie's hunches.

Quinn had laughed and said Galvez's line to Roya about doing _a better job than Brody_, had been pretty awesome.

…

Carrie was relieved that Peter Quinn seemed to be chilling out. As the days passed she even suspected that he might be fucking someone. It certainly made him a lot easier to work with.

Galvez agreed with her and they both felt relieved that Quinn was no longer making Carrie feel awkward with any unwanted attention.

Galvez thought it was still prudent for Carrie to be wary though. Especially after Quinn had offered to teach Carrie some basic Yoga poses in the office.

"I'll just stay here and watch, if you don't mind." Galvez had said quietly, as Carrie's impromptu Yoga lesson with Quinn had begun.

...

"You and Galvez make a really respectable couple." Quinn did not look up from his paperwork as he drily informed Carrie of his opinion a couple of days later.

"Um. Thanks." Carrie frowned before smiling. She was unsure how to respond. "Well, I do recall you saying he was a genuine guy with a heart!"

"I thought that might have put you off him!" Quinn glanced mischievously at Carrie and laughed.

"Well, a while ago... it probably would have." She giggled at how her attitude to being in a relationship had recently been transformed.

"So what changed?" Quinn stopped laughing abruptly.

Carrie sighed, "I fell in love with him."

...

Quinn was silent for a few minutes before speaking seriously.

"I had my suspicions about Galvez, you know? When I first saw you at the conference at the hotel. I thought he had been turned. That's why I came back."

"What are you talking about?" Carrie's eyes widened.

Quinn continued. "Remember at the hotel, those documents I showed you? About the influx of terrorists into the US and that terror cell coming to life? I withheld an email that Al-Qaeda had obtained from their alleged Double Agent Galvez. It said he was instigating a relationship with a female CIA Analyst in order to _hinder her hunches and investigations_. It said he was going to feed her false Intel, so Al-Qaeda could confidently progress with their ongoing activities."

Carrie felt herself stop breathing. She was confused, but Quinn went on.

"I knew it was you, Carrie! That's why I came back. I had to check that Galvez hadn't really been turned by Roya. I had to check that he was still feeding Al-Qaeda lies, like I had told him to, before Gettysburg. That he hadn't started giving them the truth."

Quinn suddenly looked sad and shook his head. "But when I saw you and Galvez, kissing outside that lift at the hotel, I was afraid that he _had_ been turned. I was convinced that he was using you, because Roya had told him to have a relationship with you."

"So that's why you came back." Carrie was nodding as she finally understood. "I was wondering why the fuck a Black-Ops Soldier like yourself was back here, pretending to work as a CIA Analyst again. You thought Galvez had been turned, so you came back to put a bullet in his brain!"

Quinn nodded and suddenly started laughing as he saw how the colour in Carrie's cheeks had drained.

"Don't worry, Carrie. Galvez is legit. He's the real deal. He's not going to turn out to be some terrorist like Brody. Believe me, I've been watching Galvez for long enough now. He's doing a great job feeding Roya and Al-Qaeda all sorts of bullshit. He also happens to be a great guy who loves you very much."

Carrie blushed. Quinn was giving his seal of approval and she wasn't sure why it mattered, but it did.

...

Carrie decided to opportunistically probe Quinn with some questions, whilst he was being so friendly and open with her.

She smiled at him. "Have you met anyone, Peter? You seem happy and distracted lately!"

Quinn rubbed his neck self-consciously even though the love bites had faded days ago. "Well let's just say I managed to inherit a couple of members of Galvez's glittery fan club, after he deserted them that night out at the bar!"

Carrie laughed. "Let me guess. One of them is a hairdresser?"

Quinn smiled as he ran his finger-tips through his new spiky hairstyle.

"To be honest though. I've mostly been busy lately, sorting stuff out for Emily-Jane." He frowned at the red laceration that still adorned Carrie's cheek.

She looked at him incredulously as he continued.

"I've just been popping into the hospital. Making arrangements for her family to get here and pick her up. They hadn't seen her for years. She was a missing person."

Carrie asked tentatively, "Is she very sick?"

Quinn sighed "Emily-Jane has the same as you, Carrie. She has bi-polar disorder. She hadn't taken her meds for over a year and was at the height of a mixed-affective episode when you saw her at the Diner. That's probably why she'd been drinking so much and why she was so violent."

Carrie's jaw dropped in disbelief before she spoke. "How's she doing now? Is she having treatment?"

"Yep, the medication is finally starting to stabilise her. The magic of Lithium! She'll be OK. Although, I'll be glad when her parents get here. She still has this weird _thing_ for me." Quinn rolled his eyes.

Carrie giggled. "I remember when you told _me_ that you were in love with the craziest woman you'd ever met! Was I really crazier and sicker than Emily-Jane?"

Quinn shook his head. "I was never in love with Emily-Jane, so yes, you're officially still the craziest woman I ever loved."

"Loved..." Carrie said the word carefully. "Past tense, right?"

Peter Quinn did not reply.

Carrie wasn't sure why, but she was determined to force him to show his hand. "So, what is it, Quinn? Do you _have a thing _for women with bi-polar disorder?"

"Had!" he grinned as he corrected her, "I don't _have a thing_ for anyone any more. Although don't tell those glittery babes from the bar. They'll certainly do for now."

Carrie breathed a sigh of relief. Peter Quinn was clearly no longer in love with her, which meant Danny Galvez was truly safe on both counts. She felt she could stop worrying.

Unlike Brody, who had not been so fortunate, Quinn's bullets would never be destined for Danny Galvez now. He was certainly not an Al-Qaeda Terrorist and Quinn even seemed relaxed about Galvez being her boyfriend.

...

_"Seriously, do I fucking look like I understand the perfect union of mind, body and spirit?"_

Carrie grumbled as she modelled the outfit that Estes had personally chosen for her to wear to the Yoga Class.

"Just look sexy for Hasan Osman, the Turkish Yoga teacher!" Estes ordered, eyeing her approvingly in the white cropped vest top and black lycra hot pants.

Quinn and Galvez both agreed vocally with Estes, but their clenched fists told a different story.


	8. Chapter 8: Yoga Class

_Warning this chapter contains SWEARING similar to the programme._

_..._

**LOVE'S TERROR CELL**

**CHAPTER 8**

The intelligence on Hasad Osman had flowed thick and fast that week. It became clearer that unusual items were being left for him in the Changing Rooms at the Sports Centre. Estes and his team were in agreement that the Yoga class that Hasad taught and possibly his womanising, must be a cover for something, but there was not enough evidence yet.

Some more hands-on surveillance was definitely a priority for Carrie. Also, obtaining the important contents of a black case that, according to intelligence reports, was being left for Hasad today, was also high on Carrie's to-do list.

Carrie was sure that she could do it. Getting the black case out of the locker would be the easy bit. It was the Yoga class beforehand that was the most daunting to her.

Carrie had already binned Estes' selection of skimpy attire for the Yoga class. She shoved her saggiest light-grey sweatpants and biggest and baggiest plain white T-shirt into her sports bag. She smiled knowing that they would be more comfortable. She hoped that the Yoga class would have a few other beginners like her.

Saul and Estes were insisting that Carrie needed to get as close as possible to Hasad Osman and be attractive for him. She really didn't think she had the stomach for it any longer. It had been different last time. At least she had found Brody reasonably attractive before she had got close to him, to try and find out his darkest secrets.

...

The ancient building that was the Inner City Sports Centre was grey and decaying. Galvez had driven her there from home. His luxurious car stood out ridiculously, amongst the rusty jalopies in the car park. Galvez was to wait and watch.

Carrie took her time in the grimy and smelly Ladies Changing Room. She tried to avoid the pools of grey water on the discoloured linoleum floor. She hoped that the Mens Changing Room would be a similar lay-out. She would need to find the required locker quickly and retrieve the black case.

She queued with the others outside the large Sports Hall. She was relieved that the line consisted of various ages, sexes and ethnicities. It was neither a class full of chanting monks, nor Lycra-clad, lithe babes, as she had alternately imagined.

She heard Hasad Osman before she saw him. She glanced in the direction of the deep Turkish accent regaling a rude tale to his sidekick. The voice belonged to the expected lumpy man. She had studied the surveillance photographs carefully enough, but there was definitely no mistaking him in the greasy, hairy flesh. An over-powering aroma of spicy meatiness wafted, as he passed.

Carrie gagged inwardly. She took comfort in the fact that Galvez was still in the car park. He was to observe everyone who was entering and leaving the Sports Centre that afternoon, as well as keeping an eye on the video feed from inside. As he had kissed her goodbye, Galvez had promised to wait in the car and do most of the surveillance himself, unless he needed to leave to follow someone. He had told Carrie that he would give her a lift back to work if he could. Otherwise Virgil and Max would still be there, to whisk her back to Langley in their van. Hopefully with the mysterious black case in her possession.

...

The line moved forward and Carrie followed the others into the vast, decrepit Sports Hall.

Some people made a bee-line for specific zones. A patchwork of colourful yoga mats was laid out territorially over the scuffed, dark wooden flooring.

Carrie sighed as she headed directly for the front row. She had gathered from the reports, that Hasad the Yoga teacher, particularly liked assisting the ladies at the front of the class. Hopefully she could get closer to him there. She would have to try and catch his eye with a smile, now she had done away with the indecent Lycra outfit that Estes had provided.

She removed her white trainers and grey socks and placed them at the side of the room. She then sat on her black Yoga mat with folded arms resting on her crossed legs, imitating some of the others. She decided that her mat was rather plain, amongst the rainbow of rubber rectangles, that were flanking her position.

She opened her mouth in disbelief as another figure entered the room and noted where she was sitting. He headed directly for the spot behind her.

_What the fuck was Peter Quinn doing here?_

…_._

Quinn was dressed in tight black shorts and an even tighter black Lycra T-shirt that did not leave his toned abdominal muscles to the imagination. Carrie noticed a few appreciative glances being directed at his toned _gluteus maximus_ as he bent over and untied his black trainers.

She looked over her shoulder to try and catch his eye properly, but he was quickly on his back, eyes tightly closed as he lay there like a corpse.

_He's doing the Savasana pose!_ She mentally patted herself on the back for remembering some of the Yoga terminology that Quinn had insisted on teaching her.

Hasad Osman clapped his hands loudly. The class was to begin.

...

As the warm-up started, Carrie felt inept as she attempted the simple poses, or _asanas _as Quinn had briefed her. She felt particularly paranoid as she knelt on all fours and alternately flexed her spine up and down, apparently like a cat and then a cow, under the instructive gaze of Hasad Osman. She noticed him looking down the cleavage of every female on the front row, lingering on hers. She also imagined that behind her, Peter Quinn was probably having a field day looking at her clumsy butt and criticising her efforts at _Marjariasana – Bitilasana_.

She soon felt even worse, when during the downward dog pose, her baggy white T-shirt became untucked from the loose waistband of her oversized sweatpants and it slipped forwards to reveal her entire torso. She glanced backwards, through her legs as she attempted to tuck her T-shirt back in with one-hand. Peter Quinn was smirking as he looked up from his textbook perfect _Adho Mukha Svanasana_. He had clearly got an eyeful of Carrie's highly inappropriate and very non-sporty, black lacy bra.

The Yoga class continued with Carrie feeling incompetent. Occasionally she got a glance from Quinn in the mirror. He was clearly a real Yoga expert. _Where did he learn all this?_ She wondered.

...

Hasad announced that they all needed to find a partner for the next part of the class. Carrie opportunistically looked directly at Hasad, but he already had his paws outstretched, towards the dainty, dark-haired beauty on her right. The girl was smiling politely, but Carrie saw the fear in her eyes and she wondered why.

She felt a firm tap on her own shoulder. It was Quinn, of course. She sighed and hoped he wouldn't humiliate her too much.

...

The partner asanas began respectfully enough with some back to back breathing. Carrie felt desperately uncomfortable sat with her spine pressing against Quinn's. He was solid and upright, whilst she felt hunched, wobbly and weak attempting to press her back against his. The electric shocks that she was experiencing, where their bodies connected didn't help either.

"This is called _Sukhasana._" Carrie proudly whispered over her shoulder.

"Suck my what?" Quinn breathed teasingly, as he turned wide-eyed. His cheek was warm against her ear.

Carrie blushed and gulped. She hoped that Quinn wasn't flirting with her. She thought he had appeared genuine in the congratulations that he had offered herself and Galvez, _now that they were officially an item_. Quinn had been extremely helpful in teaching her some rudimentary Yoga poses a few days earlier, as Galvez had dubiously supervised.

The asanas swiftly progressed to downright pornographic from Carrie's perspective. Especially with Quinn as a partner. He moulded her amateur limbs into various expert poses, his grip always gentle, yet firm and assertive. His eyes were dancing. He was finding it as hilarious, as she did mortifying. Carrie rolled her eyes. _No wonder he had come into the Yoga class!_

She glanced over at the teacher, Hasad Osman, who was man-handling his petite, dark-haired pretty partner. He was practically licking his lips, as he groped the poor girl.

Although Carrie was thoroughly swivelled, spread-eagled and generally at the mercy of Quinn, she was sincerely relieved that it was him, rather than Hasad Osman. The partner asanas probably only lasted fifteen minutes, but it felt like hours to Carrie, especially when she found her head being lowered dangerously near Quinn's groin again. She closed her eyes and tried to empty her mind.

"Open your eyes, Carrie. It's time for _Tuladandasana_. Balancing stick pose!" Quinn was grinning as he pulled her up and began to sculpt her limbs for their final pose together. Carrie tried hard not to think about balancing on Quinn's stick, especially after where her face had just been.

Carrie now found herself face to face, headlong with Quinn, in a ropeless tug-of-war, as they balanced their limbs horizontally like straight sticks. Both of their arms were outstretched directly in front and they held hands to help keep each other balanced. A battle of wills, as each tilted forwards on one leg, with their other leg outstretched horizontally behind.

Carrie inwardly panicked as the teasing and amusement in Quinn's eyes faded and the only emotion being conveyed by him now was raw desire and arousal for her. She wondered if they'd had too much physical contact and it had made suppressed feelings start to surface. Every time she tried to look away from him, her standing leg wobbled, so the only option was to stare back, directly into his blue eyes.

Her heart was racing. _Those damn blue eyes of Quinn's, so full of secrets, promises and threats._

She gasped as she realised that his piercing blue stare could not be more different from Galvez's own brown wide-eyed gaze. Galvez's honest, friendly, puppy dog eyes that were usually following her around the room, adoringly.

Out of Carrie's wobbliness came some clarity. Momentarily, she decided that based on eye contact alone, she had never wanted to _fuck _anyone quite so badly in all her life.

_Peter Quinn is seducing me with his beautiful blue eyes._

She accidentally conveyed this in her own eyes to Quinn and his knee buckled. They fell in a laughing heap together on the floor. Their gaze locked again and Quinn raised an eyebrow. His blue eyes were simply stating: _Well, what are YOU going to do about it?_

Carrie sighed, confused, before realising that their Yoga teacher, Hasad Osman was missing from the class. In her unexpected, horny eye-balling with Quinn, she had lost sight of the real target.

_Fuck fuck fuck_ she scolded herself. She glanced at Quinn, but he was already heading for the door.

…

She lay nervously on her Yoga mat. Hasad Osman had returned, but Peter Quinn hadn't. The final part of the Yoga class was a meditation of sorts, whilst listening to the most horrendous whale music that Carrie had ever heard in her life. Hasad was lying on his own mat with his eyes firmly closed, as he urged them to go _deeper and deeper._

Carrie could not take it any longer. She abandoned her socks, trainers and mat and quickly tiptoed, barefoot, out of the door.

She peeped discreetly around the door of the Men's Changing Room and saw Quinn standing alone by a bench. When he saw that it was her, he resumed sifting through the lockers and she joined him without a word. He mouthed to her silently, _I think he's in the toilet._ She shook her head and pointed back to the Sports Hall where she had just sneaked out from.

Quinn worked fast with his master key, darting into every key-less locker. Contents were assessed rapidly and returned. Just three to go.

Suddenly they heard the door handle. They looked at each other. Quinn shoved Carrie into a shower cubicle and bolted the door, as he followed her in. He reached to press the timer button, to turn on the shower and cold water accidentally sprayed them both. They silently gesticulated their annoyance at each other, before Quinn leant his ear to the door, straining to hear who may have joined them.

As the unseen individual began whistling, Carrie recognised the tune and tapped Quinn, nodding. The whistled rendition of the Turkish song _Şımarık... _or _Spoilt_, as Galvez had once roughly translated,was probably coming from Hasad Osman. Galvez had called it his_ Kiss Kiss _song.

As they listened, Carrie's memory drifted back to the evening when Galvez had tried, rather randomly and unsuccessfully, to broaden her musical horizons with something other than Jazz. He had played her an album from his own varied international collection, a popular Turkish album called _Ölürüm Sana_. It was the only memorable to Carrie because Galvez had, hilariously and raunchily, impersonated the Turkish singer, Tarkan, whilst gyrating the lyrics to her. He had warned her that the lyrics were filled with erotic innuendoes.

_Seni gidi fındıkkıran_

_Yılanı deliğinden çıkaran_

_Kaderim püsküllü belam_

_Yakalarsam..._

_Ocağına düştüm yavru_

_Kucağına düştüm yavru_

_Sıcağına düştüm yavru_

_El aman_

Galvez had pounced and kissed her twice, before giving his attempted translation of the lyrics, with his impressive multi-lingual abilities. He said it was rather difficult, with all the Turkish slang and proverbs in the song.

_You vamp you_

_You lure the snake from it's place_

_My fate's crazy adventure_

_If I get a hold of you..._

_I've fallen in your furnace, baby_

_I've fallen in your lap, baby_

_I've fallen for your warmth, baby_

_Oh my_

Then another two kisses from Galvez and a fits of laughter, before their clothes were rapidly discarded.

…

From their refuge in the mildewy, brown-tiled shower cubicle, Carrie heard a locker open and Quinn looked pissed off, as if he was assuming that they had lost their chance to intercept the mysterious black case. Then they heard the shower door next to theirs open and the whistling continued from within it, as the door was bolted.

It seemed Hasad Osman going to take a shower before he departed. Hopefully, if anything had been placed in the locker, then it was still there. Quinn grinned at Carrie and motioned for her to keep pressing the button on the shower, to keep the water flowing and add some authenticity to their own locked door. They heard Hasad beginning to undress. He suddenly stopped whistling and started smacking his lips in mock kisses to himself. Then he began grunting, a bit like how Carrie imagined a horny boar to sound.

Carrie and Quinn looked at each other with amusement. _What was he up to now? _They were certain that he was alone. _Surely, he wasn't doing what they thought he was?_ Perhaps the asanas with the petite, pretty girl had been too much for him to bear!

Quinn choked back laughter and used crude sign language to demonstrate. _He's taking matters into his own hands, so to speak!_

Carrie stifled a giggle and there was an escalation of the furious groaning, grunting and slapping sound in the cubicle next door. Quinn was biting his knuckles to try and stop himself from laughing out loud. Carrie suddenly got sprayed by the shower again and her black lacy bra showed itself through her white T-shirt. This made Quinn bite his knuckles even harder and tears ran down his cheeks, as he started convulsing with glee.

Carrie suddenly got seriously worried. She never thought she would see the day that Peter Quinn would screw up a mission. Especially not because he had got a fit of the giggles!

She had to shut him up fast. She pressed the shower button again and keeping one hand on it, she grabbed Quinn's head and dragged him towards her, raking his short hair. She pulled his fist from his mouth and dived for it with her own lips and tongue. Quinn was still shaking with laughter as they kissed. Now they were both getting sprayed by the shower.

Their fun, carefree kiss lasted for less than a minute. It was the most light-hearted kiss that Carrie had ever experienced. There was no attachment, no promises, no denials, no rejections, no desire. It was mostly enjoyable due to their shared amusement, rather than any pleasure gained from the kiss itself. It was simply serving it's purpose of attempting to keep Peter Quinn quiet. It was a surreal kiss, given that they were serenaded by the grotesque, yet hilarious sounds of Hasad's self-pleasure.

Carrie pulled her lips away from Quinn's, as the groaning in the next cubicle escalated, then stopped abruptly. She listened as Hasad further undressed, panting, before he switched his shower on. Quinn seemed oblivious, now far too distracted with the delights of feeling just how wet Carrie's T-shirt was and she had to shove him off firmly. He was going too far now.

_Lockers_ she mouthed.

Quinn looked annoyed, but obediently opened the cubicle door and dripped water everywhere he darted to the three remaining lockers that needed checking.

Bingo! There was a tiny black case in the first one he tried. He grabbed it.

Carrie snatched a towel that was hanging on a peg and they sprinted from the Changing Room and out of the Sports Centre.

Quinn reached out to Carrie and they ran hand in hand across the car park towards his car. Both were wet, barefoot, freezing and laughing harder than they had ever done so before.

…

Danny Galvez momentarily smiled from his car as he observed the strangely shoeless, wet, but happy laughing couple running hand in hand across the road in front of him. Then he realised who it was. He burst into tears.

…

Quinn's car screeched out of the car park. As they laughed, a wicked thought crossed Carrie's mind out of nowhere. _I bet he fucks like he drives. Hard and fast._

She suddenly stopped laughing as the cold air from the vents hit her. The realisation of what had just happened. What she had just done. She had just kissed Peter Quinn without a thought for Danny Galvez's feelings, or even Quinn's feelings for that matter.

Her guilt escalated as she remembered that she was supposed to be in a proper relationship with Galvez now. _Shit,_ she thought. _I'm supposed to be getting a lift with him now too. I forgot!_

Carrie pulled her iPhone from the pocket of her sweat-pants. She tried Galvez's number, but there was no answer. She bit her nails nervously.

She relaxed a little as she realised Quinn was at least driving in the right direction towards Langley. They were going back to work and he wasn't taking her back to his flat, to finish off what she'd foolishly started.

"I'm sorry what happened back there..in the shower..." Carrie began, embarrassed.

"I'm not." Quinn smiled smugly. He had seen Galvez's car in the car park and had taken Carrie's hand on purpose and made her laugh even more loudly.

He then remembered the hidden camera in the Changing Room that Galvez was monitoring from his car, in an attempt to see who had left the black case in the locker for Hasad Osman.

Quinn smiled. He didn't know for sure, but because of the camera, maybe Galvez had even seen Carrie kissing him.


	9. Chapter 9: Hard Drive

_Thanks so much for the reviews! I sincerely appreciate all the reviews and comments. __Also, thanks to readers who may not leave a review, but have still taken the time to read the story this far..._

_(NOTE__: Chapter 9 is the penultimate chapter. Chapter 10 will be the finale!)_

_..._

_Warning this chapter contains SWEARING similar to the programme._

_..._

**LOVE'S TERROR CELL**

**CHAPTER 9**

Saul shrugged and shook his head at the numbers scrolling across the computer screen. David Estes reckoned that they represented the encrypted files that were stored on the portable hard drive. It had been found in the black case, brought back from the Sports Centre by Carrie and Quinn.

The portable hard drive that had been intended for Hasad Osman. The likely heir to Abu Nazir's dangerous legacy.

"Galvez is good at getting into this sort of stuff. We should ring him NOW!" Saul announced it with a mixture of urgency and confidence.

Estes nodded as he turned towards the door. "Good idea. I'll be back when you have some news on this. Call me immediately."

Neither Carrie nor Quinn answered. They both fidgeted as they stared, as if hypnotised by the scrolling numbers on the screen.

Saul repeated his statement about ringing Galvez, but he was unheeded again. He wondered why Carrie was ignoring him. He had expected Carrie to come back to Langley in the car with Galvez. It had been _their _mission this afternoon, to collect the black case and it's contents.

Saul had thought Peter Quinn had taken the day off to attend to some personal matters.

"I'll ring Galvez myself then!" Saul became exasperated with the lack of response from Carrie and Quinn, as they drifted back to their desks.

…

Shortly afterwards Carrie got a glimpse of Danny Galvez plodding through the corridor, looking subdued. He didn't acknowledge or greet anyone, but went straight into the office with Saul. Quinn jumped up and headed to join them. Saul's office door banged loudly as Quinn slammed it behind him.

Carrie felt alone at her desk. She was desperate to join them, but her mind was jittery and she feared she may say something ridiculous and they would all laugh at her. She took a clozapine tablet to try and calm herself down.

She wasn't sure why, but in the middle of all the excitement about the mysterious portable hard drive, she decided to tidy her desk.

_I might even clear it and never come back! _She repeated it like a mantra over and over, as she rearranged her clutter.

After twenty minutes, Quinn left Saul's office and returned to Carrie. His eyes were wide as he looked at her.

Carrie interpreted Quinn's odd expression for concern. The sight of her manically rotating piles of colourful stationary around her desk.

"I'm OK, Peter. I'm not manic! I'm just tidying up this mess!" She strained a short laugh as she put a green pen on the pile, along with the other green things.

She tried to speak slowly and seriously. "Talking of messes Peter... I'm so, so sorry... I did something stupid when I kissed you... I'm sorry if I've messed with your head..."

"Don't apologise, Carrie." He growled. "Stop fucking apologising. Instead of apologising, why don't you start telling the truth?"

Carrie grimaced. She couldn't deny that she had some feelings for Quinn. However she was sure now that they were just occasional feelings of lust and temptation that surfaced in certain situations. Like having her head contorted an inch away from his Lycra-encased groin in a Yoga class.

"I love Danny Galvez, not you! Nothing has changed." She folded her arms tightly across her chest.

"Everything has changed. More than you know." Quinn was shaking his head. "Oh and Carrie. Not telling someone the truth about what you did, is just the same as lying."

She nodded her head. "I know that, but please believe me. I do love Galvez a lot. I don't want to lose him!"

"Then why did you shove you tongue down my throat?" Quinn edged dangerously close to Carrie's face.

Carrie gulped and stepped away. "I knew it'd shut you up! Stop your god-damn giggling ruining the mission today."

Quinn looked seriously pissed off.

"Perhaps my work here is done. For now." He hissed and grabbed his coat.

She breathed a sigh of relief as he departed.

…

Carrie headed towards Saul's office and opened the door quietly and carefully. Saul smiled at her as he glanced up from his newspaper. He was obviously leaving Galvez to the computer, which wasn't surprising, given Saul's incompetence for typing, as well as his universally acknowledged ineptitude for most things technological.

"Quinn says that hard drive thingy contains some good stuff!" Saul's broad smile virtually patted her on the back for a job well done.

Danny Galvez didn't look up or acknowledge Carrie in any way. He was either too engrossed in what he had found in the encrypted files, or he was deliberately ignoring her.

At the sight of Carrie's frown, Saul sensed an atmosphere between them and said he was going for a coffee.

Carrie was feeling calmer now. She tentatively rested her hands on Galvez's shoulders, whilst she watched him tapping at the computer. His shoulders tensed up instantaneously.

"What is it baby?" She nuzzled his ear and stroked her fingers through his dark hair.

Galvez didn't answer. He assertively shrugged off her hands.

Carrie crouched next to him and looked at his face. Only now did she notice the redness that was rimming his brown eyes.

"For fucks sake, Danny! Please! Tell me what's wrong?" She snatched his hand off the keyboard.

Galvez looked at her this time, as he withdrew his hand back slowly. His eyes scanned across her features like he was mentally photographing her whole face.

"I know." He said it sadly. "We both know the truth about what happened, Carrie..."

…

Carrie didn't know how to respond. She felt hollow and confused. She cringed inwardly. He was obviously talking about her kiss with Peter Quinn. _Was Galvez dumping her? Quinn must have told him already! _

She wanted to tell Galvez so many things, but instead she put her head in her hands and started to cry. She couldn't stop herself.

Galvez didn't reach out to her. He simply started tapping on the keyboard again.

…

Carrie glanced up tearfully from her wet hands, just as Saul and Quinn entered the office, each sipping a cup of coffee. She was shocked to see Quinn back already. He was still wearing his coat from his earlier exit. She had hoped that he had left the premises completely, so she could have some privacy with Galvez to talk things through, once her weeping had stopped.

Galvez stood up angrily and said he was going for a coffee himself now.

Quinn coldly surveyed Carrie's watery-eyes, before shouting to Galvez that he was coming with him.

Saul put his arm round Carrie and begged her not to cry. "You've done so well!" He told her again. "According to Quinn that portable hard drive is full of important information!"

…

Carrie pushed Saul away and darted out of his office. She headed down the corridor where Galvez and Quinn had just gone.

She stopped in her tracks. She could hear them talking around the corner. She peeped cautiously.

It was obvious that Quinn was apologising profusely to Galvez.

"I saw your car in the Sports Centre car park, so I grabbed Carrie's hand to try and make you jealous. It was a stupid childish thing I did. Galvez, I'm sorry." Quinn was biting his lip as he shook his head.

Danny Galvez was staring the floor before he looked directly at Quinn. "Why did you do it?"

"I've never met anyone like Carrie before. I've been pursuing her, but I swear it was all one-sided. She's not interested in me, Galvez. It's you!" Quinn explained, through tight lips. "She loves you, not me!"

Galvez looked away. "I think deep down she has feelings for you too. I saw the way she was laughing with you!"

Quinn shook his head. "We'd just been hiding. It was hilarious. Listening to Hasad knocking one out in the shower, before we could grab that case. It was one of those moments... although I guess you had to be there really. To appreciate how funny it was..."

Galvez threw his arms up angrily. "Why were you there at all, Peter? What possessed you to gate-crash Carrie's Yoga class mission today?"

Quinn exhaled and shrugged. "I just wanted to protect her from that greasy man. Fucking Hasad Osman. I couldn't bear the thought of another Terrorist mauling her."

Galvez threw his head back and laughed. "Quinn! It's her job. Carrie can handle it!"

"I can't handle it though, Galvez! I can't handle other men using Carrie." Quinn's eyes suddenly pierced him like a knife and his voice was equally cutting. "I'm right aren't I? That's how it started? You used Carrie to try and manipulate Roya into confessing all she knows about Al-Qaeda. You tried to convince Roya that you were in a relationship with Carrie, so that you could pretend to be intercepting her hunches? Pretend Al-Qaeda could safely progress with all their plans in the US, because top CIA Agent Carrie Mathison was too busy being fucked by you, to be aware of anything else. But it backfired didn't it? You fell in love with her!"

"Quinn you're an idiot!" Galvez laughed at him again. "Me and Carrie were fuck buddies long before Roya suggested anything! It was just a coincidence that Roya came up with that stupid plan. A very convenient coincidence. I never used Carrie! I just carried on screwing her! Like we'd been doing anyway. The only difference was that Roya knew a little bit about it. You already know I was feeding Roya a pack of lies about stopping Carrie doing her job properly!"

"Is that all Carrie is to you? A fuck buddy?" Quinn punched the wall, close to where Galvez's ear had been, before he had promptly ducked.

"How we feel about each other..." Galvez trailed off before correcting himself purposefully. He jabbed Quinn firmly on the shoulder with his index finger. "How I _felt_ about Carrie is none of your fucking business."

"She's in love with you, Galvez!" Quinn swallowed.

Galvez shrugged dismissively. "The only thing I want is a safe way out of this set up with Roya Hammad and her other goons that I still have to send bullshit to. I don't want to pretend I'm a double agent for Al-Qaeda any more!"

Quinn shook his head. "Too risky at the moment! I don't know what Al-Qaeda might do. If it goes wrong, you might pay with your life and I don't want Carrie to go through that!"

"I don't care! I'm leaving tonight. Especially now I know the truth about Carrie..." Galvez suddenly sounded distraught as he started walking down the corridor.

"You're over-reacting! Give her a chance to explain!" Quinn begged as he followed him.

Galvez shook his head. "I can't face Carrie. Not now I know about her behaviour. Goodbye Quinn."

Carrie heard the finality in Galvez's voice and panicked. She clawed her fingernails down the wall. As they walked further down the corridor, she could only vaguely hear the voice of Peter Quinn. He was begging Galvez to stay, or at least take Carrie with him.

Carrie turned and ran back to Saul's office in a daze. She didn't know what to do. She did not doubt that she loved Galvez, but he was walking out over what... _her being seen running and laughing with Quinn?_ She thought that even if he knew about their brief kiss he was over-reacting. He was being ridiculous.

"Screw Danny fucking Galvez!" She yelled to a confused Saul.

Carrie sat down purposefully in front of the computer. She decided to see what all the fuss was about.

_What is this great information on the portable hard drive that Quinn and Galvez were so excited about?_

"Wow!" she exclaimed wide-eyed. The screen was full of folders labelled in Arabic. As she clicked a few she realised that they had probably been recovered from Abu Nazir's hard drive. The files contained detailed information about terror plots. Past, present and future terror plots. It hit her that there was probably enough information on there to track down and convict hundreds of terrorists.

Carrie shivered abruptly at the sight of a folder named _Walden's pacemaker_. She remembered what Brody had done. She hoped she could delete that one before anyone else had a chance to read it.

...

Carrie suddenly felt Quinn's palms on her shoulders before he gripped her firmly. She twitched guiltily as she moved her finger that was hovering over the _DELETE_ key.

Quinn leant down and whispered to Carrie quietly and carefully, so Saul would not hear him. "Galvez and I have already read the contents of that particular folder, Carrie. Unlike Galvez, I'm still here for you. Unlike Galvez, I can handle the truth about you."

He brushed a strand of long blonde hair away from her ear as he breathed in closer. "Saul and Estes know nothing of that folder _yet _and I'm guessing you'd like to keep it that way?"

Her mind froze. She nodded submissively. She knew that he had some power over her now.

Peter Quinn's breath was hot on her neck and she could feel his heartbeat becoming more rapid, as his solid muscular chest pressed against her slim back.

His lips grazed her ear as he whispered again. "Galvez is not here to protect you from me any longer. I'm going to do things to you, Carrie. Things I should have done to you three years ago, when I had the chance. You're going to let me have my way now. You're not going to reject me or push me away."

She nodded again. Her knees suddenly turned to jelly at the mixture of arousal and anticipation that was in his voice.


	10. Chapter 10: Alone at Last

_Thank you all for the reviews and new follows! _

_Here's the FINALE!_

_..._

_Warning this chapter contains SWEARING similar to the programme._

_..._

**LOVE'S TERROR CELL**

**CHAPTER 10**

Peter Quinn had guided Carrie to another room. Somewhere a bit more private for what he had in mind. This sort of action was not for Saul's eyes.

The lighting in the room was soft. It cast dim, flickering shadows. _Very romantic_ thought Carrie, as she gazed across at Quinn.

They regarded each other for a few moments, neither speaking. Carrie smiled to herself. Quinn really was incredibly good-looking. She decided that she could watch the shadows dance on his perfect cheekbones forever.

She knew that he would be the first to speak. There would be no more games, no more lies. Only the truth stood between them now.

Carrie silently vowed that she would always tell him the truth from now on. He deserved that, after what she must have put him through all this time. Especially today, after the silly kiss in the shower cubicle.

_It's going to happen right now! _She was excited and apprehensive in equal measure at the thought. She clenched her thighs.

_I always suspected he had a dominant dark side... like Christian Grey, perhaps..._

"Carrie..." Quinn began softly, but then he stopped and swallowed.

He inhaled and exhaled slowly, before frowning and pursing his lips.

_Perhaps he's as nervous as I am?_ Her eyes widened at the thought.

"Carrie... you know why we're here, don't you? Why we've come to this room, alone, together?" Quinn's blue eyes suddenly penetrated her, mercilessly.

"I certainly do." Carrie gasped, breathless at the dark intensity in his voice and his stare. Her heart violently thumped against the wall of her chest.

"Would you agree that when I asked you before. Three years ago? You made a terrible mistake?" His smooth voice gave her knots in her stomach.

Carrie nodded and closed her eyes briefly, as she tried to breathe.

She remembered that day from three years ago very well. Vice President Walden had died. Abu Nazir had been captured. Also, perhaps most importantly, Peter Quinn had proposed to her and she had rejected him, so he had disappeared from her life.

Disappeared, after he had assassinated Nicholas Brody.

It was all different now though. Everything had changed. Brody was just a bittersweet memory. Galvez was gone. Only Peter Quinn was in her life right now.

Carrie shuddered as she realised that Quinn had finally got her exactly where he wanted her. Completely alone. All to himself. She accepted that she was now at the mercy of all his power. She suspected that his complex fantasies could involve _anything_. Possibly a combination of romantic, wonderful, sexual, weird, dark, dangerous...

Carrie shivered deliciously knowing that she had never felt more alive. Secretly she knew that she lived for rare moments like this. She felt like adrenaline and endorphins were coursing through her veins. She would give Quinn what he wanted. She would play her role perfectly, whatever part he wanted her to play.

...

Quinn analysed her carefully and precisely, as if dissecting her. He knew Carrie better now. Knew that she did not respond too well to sudden proposals. He would try and stay calm this time. Ask her the big question in a different way. His hand twitched on the shiny object in his pocket, as he looked at her pale hands and her bare slender ring finger.

"Carrie..." He gritted his teeth. "Why did you tell me that you had simply escaped from Abu Nazir in the old Mill?"

Carrie shrugged, insouciantly.

Quinn's entire body jerked angrily. "When in fact Nazir had released you, because Brody had kept his side of the bargain?"

She stared back at Quinn stonily.

Quinn exploded loudly near her face. "Why didn't you inform your colleagues that you knew Brody had helped Nazir, to kill Vice President Walden?"

Carrie inhaled sharply and drew back as far as she could from him. It was difficult given the shackles. She looked away from the raging Peter Quinn and stared at the floor. She shivered fearfully at the dark and stale bloodstains that met her eyes.

She knew that this dingy Interrogation room had seen a lot of pain. She never thought the day would come when she would be on the other side of the table.

Carrie swallowed. She would try and tell Quinn the truth, even though she knew that it sounded pathetic.

"I didn't want to lose my job. I love my job." She whispered, hoarsely.

"Would you _ever_ have reported Brody? Perhaps if he'd not died that night, himself?" Quinn asked exasperated and red-faced, but slightly calmer now.

Carrie shrugged and looked down at the old bloodstains again. She owed her life to Brody. He had provided Nazir with the serial numbers to Walden's pace-maker, so it could be controlled remotely to kill him.

In return, Abu Nazir had kept his promise to Brody. He had released his hostage, Carrie, from her captivity in the abandoned Mill.

_I'm grateful to Nazir for that! _She thought with sudden clarity.

Carrie felt eternally grateful to Brody for saving her life. Although she knew that Nazir had mentally cornered Brody and forced him to act, apparently in order to save the woman that he cared for so much. She still wasn't convinced that Brody had killed Walden just for her though.

In her heart, she could vaguely understand that the motive to kill Walden, had seemed entirely honourable to Nazir and subsequently to Brody. They were avenging the death of a little boy, Issa, whom they had both dearly loved. The little boy killed by Walden's drone strike.

However, despite her own gratitude and whatever their heartfelt motives, Carrie still knew the bottom line.

Her eyes were wide open as she whispered cautiously to Quinn. "I knew Brody was a terrorist, like Nazir, for what they did to Walden."

Quinn issued Carrie directly with the truth about her own collusion with Al-Qaeda. The truth that Galvez had not been able to handle.

"Carrie, you did not report the murder of the Vice President! You let the world go on believing that he'd died of natural causes. You covered up for Nicholas Brody, Abu Nazir and Al-Qaeda!"

"You practically have blood on your hands!" Quinn's voice was rising furiously again.

_Blood on my hands! _She noted Quinn's grimace, as his hand twitched in his pocket.

An image of Brody's bloody hand impaled on this very table flashed through her mind. Impaled with the knife that was almost certainly in Quinn's pocket.

Carrie suddenly started sobbing and couldn't stop. She couldn't handle it any more. She was aware that she must look pathetic to Quinn. A pathetic mess.

She blinked at him through her streaming tears and tried to imagine her future.

_A cell next to Roya Hammad perhaps?_

When her eyes refocused she saw that Quinn was blinking back tears too. She guessed that he was now torn. Torn between the Carrie that he had known and once loved. Maybe still loved. Laughing Carrie who had kissed him so carefree in the shower cubicle at the Sports Centre earlier today.

Then there was this other Carrie. Carrie who had covered up for Brody, Nazir and Al-Qaeda.

Perhaps Quinn even suspected that it had been Carrie who had slipped Abu Nazir the razor blade? So Nazir would never get the chance to talk about the deal that he had made with Brody, in order to kill Walden?

She hoped Quinn wouldn't ask her about that. She wasn't even sure if she could tell him the truth. She frowned and tried to remember if she _had_ given Abu Nazir the blade.

_Fuck!_ She thought. _I ought to remember something like that! What has ECT and all these tablets done to my brain?_

Peter Quinn removed her shackles silently and left her alone in the room.

…

One week later

Carrie huddled at the table and lifted her grey baseball cap ever so slightly, so she could read the computer screen in the Public Library more easily. A few wisps of her newly dyed mahogany hair escaped.

As well as owing Nicholas Brody her life, Carrie now owed Peter Quinn her freedom. He had left her cell door open after interrogating her.

It had allowed her to escape.

She had even waved goodbye to Saul. He had been stood in the corridor frowning and confused, but he had let her walk by. _Does he even know?_ She still wondered.

_And what do I owe Danny Galvez? _She thought sadly. _An explanation and an apology, perhaps?_

...

She didn't owe Galvez her heart, but she was determined to give it to him anyway. She had known for a while now that she loved him. More desperately than she could ever have imagined.

_Perhaps he'll understand if I explain the whole story about Nazir, Brody and the pace-maker. He knows what it's like to get caught up with terrorists. _

_Perhaps he'll understand if I explain about kissing Peter Quinn... S_he frowned. That would be the hardest bit. Even _she_ didn't really understand that.

Carrie knew that she would have to find Galvez first though. He seemed to have vanished. His apartment appeared empty. His cell phone was switched off and his email account had been deleted.

Carrie prayed that Galvez was still alive. Perhaps on the run somewhere. Like herself.

Hopefully Al-Qaeda hadn't got to him first, as Quinn had suggested.

_Fuck fuck fuck _she thought, scrolling down the screen. There were pages upon pages of _Galvez's_ in the online telephone directory.

Carrie pulled her iPhone out of her pocket and dialled the first _Galvez_ on the list. It was a long shot.

_Perhaps if I can find someone in his extended family, then they might know where he's gone?_

She swore there and then that she would look for him her whole life, if she needed too_. _She knew she could not stop until she had found him again.

...

Carrie breathed deeply. She was now resigned to the truth that her arch enemy, _Love_, had finally won.

_Love_ was in control of her now and as she had predicted, she had lost everything.

She had been well and truly turned by _Love_.

Even though she was completely alone and free, she was definitely a hostage in _Love's Terror Cell_.

...

THE END


End file.
